Everybody Wants to Rule the World
by CharlieSchulz
Summary: Power was worth it. He could lie and cheat and steal but if he was at the top, if he hit the roof of the hierarchy, then everything was worth it in the end.


**Author**: charlieschulz (a.k.a mozarts_piano)  
><strong>Title<strong>: Everybody Wants to Rule the World  
><strong>Rating<strong>: NC-17  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 26, 250  
><strong>Pairing<strong>(s): Teddy/James  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: substance abuse, heavy swearing, power abuse, roughsex, rape, torture, character death  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Power was worth it. He could lie and cheat and steal but if he was at the top, if he hit the roof of the hierarchy, then everything was worth it in the end.  
><strong>Prompt<strong>: 55.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Quick thanks to my beta LikeAVision for unwavering support even if she couldn't' help through some tough spots, Oscar Peterson for his gorgeous piano skills, and the strange German soap opera I watched every time I got writer's block. I owe you all.

*This was written for a fest over at nextgendarkfest. Please take in all warnings listed above. Also - let's clear something up: the screen name mozart's_piano is the same person who writes under charlieschulz. I am the same person. Thank you*

_Welcome to your life__  
><em>_There's no turning back__  
><em>_Even while we sleep__  
><em>_We will find you__  
><em>_Acting on your best behaviour__  
><em>_Turn your back on mother nature__  
><em>_Everybody wants to rule the world  
><em>_-Tears for Fears_

There was a room in the Department of Mysteries that monitored dreams. Night after night the room would play host to three men, all dressed in dark blue robes, who watched as the dreams of all the wizards in Britain flashed by on screens. These men had only one job, analyze the tales and make sure no one was dreaming too big, make sure there wasn't a Voldemort with cunning plans in our midst. They bottled the good ones and the bad, making it impossible for the people to remember the dreams in the morning. Stacks of vials sat in shelves next to the room with the brains, filled to the brim with people's aspirations, their deepest desires and strangest fantasies.

It was here that Teddy Lupin lived his second life.

It was also here that Teddy Lupin began to lay the foundations for his third.

-.-

Teddy had wanted to be an Unspeakable since the day his godfather took him down to the Department of Mysteries to show him the prophecy room. He'd only been 13 at the time, a child desperate for information about the Great War, but the epiphany came just the same. He wanted to do this, work under cover and understand strange things that no one else would be able to comprehend.

He'd made plans, doing great work in all his classes, _just like Remus_, all the teachers would say. He was proud of his dad, his godfather and his mum. Teddy worked through Hogwarts, the top of his class for years, friends coming and going.

After graduating from school he did accomplish it, 23 and eager, and began to work at one of the most compelling jobs in the Ministry. After hearing the stories of Harry Potter's journey he had wanted to work in the prophecy room –where it all started for him- but instead was sent to work with dreams.

Now, after years of training, he could control a person's dream easily, could make a man in Liverpool stop thinking about elephants and start dreaming about the next Arrows match instead, all from his office in London. He adored dreams, loved the obscurity of them, the variety of nightmares and the truth behind R.E.M. His mind was filled with other people's stories, tapping into a woman's fantasy proposal, allowing a boy's football championship to rule his world. Teddy did his job well, could be engrossed without attachment, could have other priorities and still get to work on time.

James would always ask how he did it; how he managed to schedule his life around his job instead of the other way around. Teddy would just laugh at him, tease about his Auror training, make them breakfast in their tiny flat, kiss him on the nose and go back to sleep.

They'd been dating for a little over a year, but had been best friends for much of Teddy's life. There wasn't a person Teddy liked spending time with more than James and every morning they could be seen entering their apartment, often at the same time, and spending the day sleeping and eating, before jetting off to work as the sun sank below the horizon.

Their dates were almost always at lunch; unless it was the weekend. Uncharted and broad, their weekends gave a whole new definition for magical. They were perfectly suited for one another; James with his bravery and kindness, Teddy with his intelligence and patience. The flat they lived in was small, the acceptance for them being together even smaller, but they managed to live life with everything that was thrown at them.

He was 29 years old, had a good job and was in love with a man who loved him back equally.

Life was good.

-.-

She'd have given her life up for the stuff.

And in a way, she did.

It was overwhelming really, the strength, the goodness she felt as she tipped her head back, felt the burn on her tongue, down her throat, in her brain. It trickled through her and made her feel like she was floating; the dream took her by her hands and threw her to the wind.

It was absolutely incredible and terrifying at the same time.

Like being in love - but she didn't want to think about that because she was over her, completely over that slut who was all talk and no commitment. It didn't matter if she had nothing left, nothing and no one.

_This_ was the only important thing now.

-.-

It could have happened while he was walking to work. It could have appeared in one of his listless nights, in the cool space on the other side of the pillow, in the maze of freckles between James's shoulder blades.

It could have happened anywhere, but it ended up happening as Teddy watched countless dreams flash by his eyes, one night at work. He'd been eating Thai food, his favourite type of takeout, when a sudden notion sprung up in his brain. Teddy wasn't rich; he made slightly more than minimum wage in a job that took a lot out of a person. James wasn't making hardly anything at all, as a brand new Auror in his field. There were millions of plans they had made: start up a book store, rent a cabin for a weekend, cross America on a motorbike, swim the Channel without any spells. They had aspirations and hopes, things they could write down and promise to each other.

They had all of these things, but with no means of doing them.

And that's why, on a cold day in September, with wind howling thousands of feet above him, Teddy Lupin came to a conclusion about money.

He needed some.

-.-

Arty Turnsing died on a cold, wet day.

He was found in a dumpster by a couple of his friends from the soup kitchen. A few of them were devastated; Kim in particular as he'd known him the longest. Most were repulsed by the state of his clothes. No one was surprised.

He had been one of the oldest on the block, nearly forty years old. He'd started out with Gillyweed, like most kids do, but this was just to be a gateway drug as he started taking potions, knock-off Felix Felicis cut with some Pepperup Potion. He then dabbled in some Muggle substances, before finally setting on the one he died with, a tiny glass vial by his side.

His friends, while going through his clothes for any spare change – or drugs if they got lucky – could only remark on one thing: it was amazing he lived as long as he did.

-.-

Teddy liked his co-workers far better than he liked his job. They weren't always straight shooters, and tended to give him a hard time about him being with another man, but made the long nights bearable, drinking all sorts of bizarre Muggle drinks like cream soda and root beer. They were all rogues by some means, sent here after trying to get into something useful, like finding out the mysteries of magic instead of surveillance duty every night. But it was because of this that they all got along: they all knew they were at the bottom of the chain, but they have rather been sitting there than out on the streets.

_It's a harsh life but at least we've got a pot to piss in, eh? _Denver, a close mate of Teddy's, liked to say. It was true that the economy had fallen years before, and jobs were pretty scarce now, what with people living longer and no manmade plague (like war) to kill them off. Someone in the office was constantly complaining about the lack of crime rate, talking about how the Death Eaters were all sorts of evil, but at least they had an economy to be killers in. Teddy, the son of war heroes, didn't know if he agreed with that, but he could attest to the lack of activity happening anywhere through James.

Those cold nights, watching screen after screen show people's deep, subconscious thoughts, there was only one thing that kept Teddy going: The stories they told were excellent.

His mate Daniel was always mentioning his mum, how she insisted on making his lunch even though he was 39, married and had 2 kids. He liked to talk about this one time when she insisted on choosing his clothes for his first day on the job, and he ended up half hour late because he was too busy arguing to his mum that no, he didn't need new robes.

Stan had problems with the women, and always ended his latest rejection stories with some comment to Teddy about skipping out on girls and taking on blokes for a bit. He even said, every once and a while when he was properly intoxicated, how he wouldn't mind borrowing James for the night, but that statement always ended quick, with a punch to the shoulder, arm or groin, from Teddy.

Denver was full of proverbs and funny jokes he had heard. He was by far the oldest, nearly fifty years old, but he could party with the best of them and always had a quick story to tell about various things he'd done over the years.

The last of them, Benny, a man who was always far away for comfort, frequently mentioned how he'd been trying to get away from this bird for months, and the only reason they weren't ialready/imarried was because he had no goddamn money. Of course Benny wasn't exactly the most honest type and probably blew it all on the afternoon hookers or drugs in Knockturn Alley, swallowing and snorting and fucking away his Sickles.

They weren't much. But they were as close to family as Teddy had after he'd been thrown out of the Potter's house along with James, damned for their relationship.

Looking back later in life Teddy wondered if Benny had been the sole reason behind everything he did, or if he'd just been the final push.

-.-

Arnold Grievings and his wife Anita were just heading down the Muggle streets by the Leaky Cauldron when it happened. Arnold was holding a large coat rack over one shoulder, saying quick sorrys to anyone he passed on the nearly empty street. In his other hand was his wife's hand. They were married eight months at this point, both eager and fresh eyed, with a helpful smile to assist.

So when they heard the woman groaning in the alley it was only natural for Arnold to immediately drop the rack, head in to the alleyway first and crouch beside the horrendous woman. With Anita next to him they both tried to speak to the lady but she was garbling, not able to put word in sentence.

A loud crash came out of nowhere and in the next second two tall, gangly, wild eyed wizard had appeared, shoving Arnold against the wall and covering his mouth, intent on his galleons and the pretty woman next to him.

Arnold could only hear the shrieks of his beautiful wife as she was violated, pleading beyond herself as they raped her. The old woman who had once seemed lame scrambled over his immoveable body, taking all his money and racing down the street quickly.

Over his wife's dying screams he heard the fragile wench muttering, saying words beyond his comprehension –_need it, fix, need to sleep, sweet dreams, sweet dreams-_

Arnold blacked out and didn't wake until the next morning when he found himself on a stretcher, quickly being taken away from the alleyway, where a zipped up bag held Anita Grieving's dead body.

-.-

Teddy usually worked the 21:45 to 6:10 shifts, Monday to Friday. James worked the same as him, patrolling the empty wizarding streets of London on a good day, and making sure the Ministry was safe while filling reports on a bad one.

Every other Tuesday was a day off for him however, so Teddy, on this particular Tuesday, walked James to work, chatting and laughing before a short kiss next to the phone booth. Teddy then set off to a pulsing club right near the Leaky Cauldron, where Stan was waiting for him, the only co-worker who got the same night off. They didn't always get along but Teddy was pretty short on friends. The ones he'd made at Hogwarts were either living the dream or regular Joes, terrified of his chosen life – the decision to leave a fucking goddess for her skinny, freckled cousin – and they judged too quick.

Even if Stan was an ass sometimes, all talk and no commitment, he at least always thought James was a good feature to Teddy's life. Maybe just a bit too much.

"I'm just saying Ted," Stan yelled over the loud music of the club, sucking down his fourth glass of whiskey "your boyfriends pretty fit! If he's ever interested in some threesome shit with me and this tight little bird I met the other day-"

"We're fine thanks!" Teddy yelled back, rolling his eyes. It took far too early for Stan to become drunk.

"Must be something though, eh?" Stan laughed loudly, competing with the music, "Pushing inside the same arse Harry fucking Potter spanked when he was a kid! What the fuck's that like?"

"Stan. Leave my personal shit alone, yeh?" Teddy wasn't really angry, just amazed at how many boundaries Stan would leap over that night.

"Such a pretty one though. You're fucking lucky, eh? I wouldn't mind going fairy for him. Nicest body, tight arse, yeh? Although I'm not too sure about that age gap, what is it, eight years between you?"

"It's seven," Teddy gritted his teeth; finally feeling pissed off, "And shut the fuck up okay. I've had enough."

Stan seemed to understand Teddy's tone and backed off, shooting back the last shot on the tray they had ordered. "Sorry mate. It's this fucking thing Benny made me take, messing up my mind. It was my fault for taking the bloody thing but I'm just saying - I'm not going to do anything to your little boyfriend."

"Damn right you're not." Teddy practically growled back, but he was intrigued, "And what're you talking about? What'd Benny do now?"

"Oh nothing, just mentioned this wild fucking thing when we were on duty on Saturday. I finally got around to trying it tonight, when I had to go get my coat back from the office."

Teddy looked around the packed club, growing more interested by the second. He watched as a man danced round this woman, grinding into the man next to him before returning back to her.

"What is it then?"

Stan grinned and leaned closer to Teddy, "Great fucking idea. Okay. Y'know how we watch the dreams yeh? Just watch?"

"Of course."

"Well Benny had this idea. Brilliant fucking idea."

"Merlin," Teddy sighed, _where was this going?_ "Tell me the point Stan."

"Yeh, yeh I'm getting there. Anyway, Benny's all curious on the job you see, making eyes at all the pretty vials we've got in the cases, row after row. And he asks me, he says, 'Eh Stan, what the hell does the Ministry do with these?' and I say, 'hell if I know, yeh?' and he says, 'what you imagine it to be like, taking a fucking dream?' and I says, I says, 'try it then, eh big man on deck' so he does."

Teddy eyes were wide, trying to see if what Stan was telling was the uttermost truth, or just a drunken haze, "And? He could get fucking fired at the drop of-"

"He said it was like heaven," Stan's eyes droop down, "like heaven on earth, he said. Someone else's dream, y'know, dreaming without trying. So I tried it about hour or two ago, and he's right. It_is_ like heaven. Like the best thing that's happened to me since four summers ago when I fell in love with Christine. But without that feeling that it's going to end, you know? This shit stays with you. It's fucking quality stuff."

"Quality? Quality stuff?" The only time Teddy had heard those words it had been about products, stuff the made your toast for you, that made your acne go away.

"Fuck yes," Stan was truly gone now, slumping his shoulders and resting his head on the stained table. "I'd pay for that. Any money, man it's like happiness in a shoot. Brilliant."

Stan mumbled a few words after that, mostly of the same, but Teddy wasn't listening anymore. His thoughts were focused on that bit about quality. What _made_ something a product in the long run? Could he, Teddy Lupin, make this thing - this job he'd been working for years - something more?

His mind whirled, ideas flashing in front of his mind. Buying, selling, trafficking this stuff for others. The Ministry had a powerful moneymaker in their grasp all along and they never knew – would never know.

Teddy had the resources; he could forefront this, make every person in Wizarding London starving for a taste of someone else's dreams. And then he and James would finally be able to do what they had always wanted. To soar into the unknown, make their presence clear to the universe, leave nothing behind.

If this wasn't fate he didn't know what it was.

-.-

Tony Anderson's funeral was a pretty sad affair, but that goes without saying.

His mother was crying in the front, all ruffles and curls and black skirt. She was leaning heavily on his father, proud and tall with a strong mustache.

The surrounding people in their wooden, magicked seats were all family, cousins he hadn't seen in years, great aunts and uncles that only seemed real on trees and in portraits. They all had matching umbrellas, black with a carbon stem – so there'd be no accidental lightning attack.

None of Tony's friends were around, which was strange as he'd had so many, funny, smart, atrocious men and women who cared about him deeply. Who always let him take the first shot at parties. Who begged him not to drive that bloody Muggle car because, _hey Tone you're fucking wasted_-

Annie and Jacob and Scorpius and Marlene sat near their car on the other side of the graveyard, passing a flask full of Dragon's Gin between them, watching as their friend was lowered into the earth.

After it was over Annie, Jacob and Marlene went back to their flat, intent on getting stoned quick and easy. But Scorpius stayed, smoking a cigarette in the graveyard far after the sun went down.

-.-

A week later Teddy screwed up the courage.

It was a normal night by any means. He'd had lunch with James that afternoon, gone back home for a quick shag after dessert and then they both took off to work. Teddy sat in front of the monitors, listening to Denver go on about his wife, the kids, how he didn't understand why Hogwarts started at 11, because he'd pay good money for them to take Justin at 4. Teddy asked polite questions to the younger man, how his wife Hermione was doing what with another baby on the way.

It always seemed strange to him that people like Denver and his wife would only ever look upon the golden war heroes as untouchable, brave statues. Yet Teddy, growing up in their houses, had seen Harry spray himself with the kitchen faucet, toss gnomes round in his garden, and kick his own son out for falling in love with his godson.

Didn't they understand that people like Harry and (once upon a time _Aunt_) Hermione were just normal humans? Didn't they see that being great wasn't about the things you did, but about how much you wanted it?

He waited ten minutes after Denver left to pick up food before he headed over to the racks of vials.

His eyes flitted along all the tags, names, dates, classification. He wondered, not for the first time, what the Ministry was planning on doing with them. So far Teddy and his colleagues had filled two rooms to the brim, shelf after shelf filled with little memories, stories, daydreams.

He shuffled through them; white tags meant they were good, black bad, and grey was for the obscure ones. Teddy had never been one for drugs at school, always the farthest from the Gillyweed circles, preferring to drink and talk to friends. It never occurred to him that something like this, that had the effect of a drug, could actually intoxicate him to want more, to make him an addict, control him and leave him powerless. This was all curiousity.

He picked up a white-tagged vial, his own handwriting scribbled along it, i_Julia Schoe_ – _47 – Liverpool/i_. Teddy looked into the glass vial, seeing images in the golden liquid, swirls of pink and blue and green. All it took was a second of hesitation before he had unscrewed the stopper, threw his head back and poured the vial down his throat.

He dropped the glass, not hearing it shatter, and fell to his knees, unaware of the glass poking into him or the race of his heartbeat. He could only feel one thing:

His mind whirling.

The first taste was incredible, like a shot of happiness straight to the gut, pure adrenaline took control and all he could see was a bright light. Slowly an image found its way into his mind; the clouds of imagination broke through, a single beam of that light, chocolate rabbits skipping through the air. He felt a pull and all of a sudden he was flying, swear to Merlin flying, without a broomstick in sight.

There seemed to be a field of green beneath him, a powerful sensation of peace came over him, and then he was falling.

The ground came up to meet him, but gravity didn't kill him, his weight slowed and retired onto the bed that was resting just beneath him now, a comfy four poster that he eased himself down on. He looked to his right and there was James, healthy and smiling and beautiful and more well-rested than he'd looked in a while. He smiled brightly, but for once in Teddy's life he didn't want to kiss the grin off his face. His eyes were too distracted by a large pile of money on the floor next to him.

Stacks of galleons, heaps of sickles all greeted him, twinkling like the stars. He jumped off the four-poster, sliding down the bed. He felt the ground pull up around him and found himself on a pirate's boat, with his money in a chest, as he leaped in after it.

The galleons didn't hurt, the sickles didn't cause any bruises and in the next second James had joined him on the ground, laughing and shouting with happiness.

"It's all yours," he grinned, auburn hair blinking in the sun, "All yours Teddy."

-.-

Bruce Highlander didn't know where he was.

The last thing he remembered doing the night before was mugging some bloke on the street. After that he figured he must have headed to that place in the alleys, found the blue-haired man, and gotten his fix.

He usually felt fantastic the morning after, those dreams stayed with you for a while, but by the pulsing in his head it hadn't been like that at all.

He looked around himself, took in the broken bottles, the scruffy blankets, the flannel jackets he had kept from being stolen by stuffing them up his shirt at night. Bruce definitely couldn't remember the dream, could barely think of how he got there.

And then it came flushing back, the knuts he managed to scrounge, the pathetic look the man with the sky-blue tresses gave him, throwing some small stopper full of amber liquid. He'd scurried away, happy with anything he could get.

Now, as he rolled on the ground clutching his searing head, his pierced stomach, he knew never to buy cheap drugs again.

If there was going to _be_ an again, that is.

-.-

"I thought you were off this weekend?" James asked, from his spot on the couch. He was reading one of his Muggle sci-fi books, probably Asimov as he was his favourite, quill and ruler next to him for the moments when he liked a passage so much he underlined it. Teddy thought his reading was incredibly endearing, but also a little crazy, as there were so many paperbacks in the flat already, and James hardly ever read the same one twice.

"Benny had a problem the other day with some labels or something. He's working now and Stan can't come in to control him so…" Teddy trailed off, unable to think of a legitimate excuse for breaking off their plans to spend time with a man he would see the next night anyways.

"Benny… he's the supposed druggie, right?" James smiled, kicking his feet up on their coffee table, knocking off a couple coasters in the process.

"Yes."

"And Stan, that's the one that always hits on me," Teddy laughed, nodding, wondering –not for the first time- if James truly thought all his friends were mad. "Is he actually playing for our team, or…"

"He likes sex. It's pretty simple." Teddy threw on his traveling cloak, midnight blue to match his hair.

"Well," James said picking up his book again, and smiling wide, "he certainly has good taste, eh?"

Teddy laughed again, "You cheeky bugger!" and gave the same bugger a quick kiss on the forehead, yelling his goodbye as he left the flat.

A second later he was in the Atrium of the Ministry. He followed a small group of witches into the lift to the right of the great statue of the heroes. As the doors closed he could just see the point of Hermione's golden hat, shimmering in the light reflected off the fountain.

It was a chatty ride to the last level, the women at the Sports Department tended to be a little gossipy, but Teddy reached his destination without consequence. He passed all the Unspeakables chatting near the courtrooms, heading straight for the spinning room. He'd heard story after story when he was a kid about the fiery Xs that helped Harry find the right door and then how he just iasked/i politely, but Teddy knew the spell the worked. It was out of his mouth before the door he had climbed through even stopped, directing him immediately to the Department of Dreams.

Benny and two blokes that Teddy had met once or twice were sitting by the monitors, excessively quiet because of the time, playing a round of toss the knut in the bottle (the object of the game was self explanatory).

Teddy walked swiftly, feeling childish as he looked down and saw his robes swirling around his legs. "Hey Benny! Give me a minute, yeh?"

Benny, small and skinny with huge eyes, turned in his chair and took a glance at Teddy, "Oy! How you been Ted? Hey, have you seen the new batch of rubber stoppers? The glass ones keep breaking."

"Search me," Teddy sighed, wondering if it would turn into one of _those_ conversations, where Benny asked questions and then left Teddy with nothing in return.

"Too bad about Danny, eh?" Their co-worker's wife was pregnant. Again.

"Yeh, we should make him a fruit basket or something," Benny laughed, as Teddy continued, "Last thing that poor bloke needs is another kid."

"I just can't believe they're still together!" exclaimed Benny, shaking his head while aiming for the butterbeer bottle. "Jesus Christ, it's been awhile."

Teddy nodded, moving closer to the group, nudging Benny in the shoulder. "Hey Ben, can I talk to you over there for a minute?"

Benny looked confused but he went with it, following Teddy over to the other side of the room, where they could just see the glint of the glass vials, stacked atop one another like books.

"What can I do you for?" the shorter man asked as Teddy looked around nervously, hoping there weren't any secrecy or bugging charms placed around the area. He knew of a couple security measures, but none that would actually record their conversation, unless of course-

"Merlin, Ted, what the fuck is it? Y'know I can't be here forever or Tweedle Dee and Dum over there are going to report me."

"Benny, y'know the thing you were talking to Stan about the other day?"

"Ted," he began slowly, giving him a _well aren't you thick_ look. "I see Stan almost every day. You're going to have to give me more than that."

"The thing about… taking the dreams. Swallowing and then actually fantasizing other people's dreams."

"Oh."

There was an awkward silence, as if what they were saying really truly meant more than just curiousity in ambitious hands.

"Yeh." Benny wrung his wrists together, making them harsh, red and angry, "It was just an idea, really. And fucking fun too, if you've never tried it. You should, honest. But if you're going to tell the boss or the fucking Aurors, then please Ted, you got to believe me I didn't-"

"Merlin," Teddy hissed, trying not to get mad, but it was so easy to with Jump-To-Conclusions-Benny. "For fuck's sake, keep your voice down. I'm not going to tell anyone."

Benny breathed a sigh of relief but Teddy wasn't done yet.

"But I need your help."

-.-

The birds were chirping, the grasshoppers had finished their final tune and Mrs. Willum was bustling around her kitchen, getting ready for a new day. She worked at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office in the Ministry, had been working there for many years. She lived in downtown London, about five minutes from St. Paul's; in the old, rich home her family had had for generations.

Having been widowed years before Mrs. Willum was accustomed to quiet mornings and waited until her eggs and bacon had been eaten, dishes washed and papers read, before going to wake her son Daniel up. He was 18, out of school for the Easter holidays, and she dotted on him obsessively, her only child and recollection of the husband she missed very much.

Daniel's room was on the third floor so she carefully climbed the rickety old stairs with hash browns in hand, pushing the door to his bedroom open with a smile.

Her scream was heard the next building over where two men shared a flat. These two men, Herald and Garrett but that's hardly important, were out their door in seconds and knocking on Mrs. Willum's door. She was incredibly kind to them, always lending things to them, bread and milk and books.

With a quick charm the door opened, allowing Garrett to push it aside and run up the stairs while Herald shouted her name, announcing their presence. Garrett reached her quickly, immediately asking the woman what could possibly be wrong and if she was hurt-

He stopped dead as he followed her horrified eyes to the scene.

The young man, Daniel, was lying on his bed, lifeless eyes, pale skin, with deep, angry cuts in his arm. There was a bloody knife next to him, and a handful of empty glass vials. A patch of sick was next to him, the smell wafting through the room to disguise the eager smell of death.

Garrett could only watch helplessly as Mrs. Willum began sobbing, falling to the floor, unable to do a thing while she mourned over the corpse that had been her son.

-.-

The abrupt change between the light, colourful shops of Diagon Alley and the harsh, dreadful ruins of Knockturn Alley startled Teddy. He'd heard of the first time Harry had been there, an accident with floo powder that had ended with Borgin & Burkes, but had never been there himself. The cacklings down dark laneways made the hair stand up on the back of his neck and it began to turn black in warning. A cold breeze riffled through the seemingly empty streets and old newsprint flew past Teddy as he clutched his thin robes to his body, internally cursing himself for forgetting his cloak.

A noise behind him made him flinch and speed up his pace, looking anxiously from the corner of his eye. He had always been a Ravenclaw at school, seeing the smartest options before anyone, used to having common sense. What he was doing now, thought Teddy as his feet echoed down the cobblestone walk, was definitely not smart.

As he passed people's faces in the shadows, deftly dodging a woman's bony hand, Teddy made a desperate prayer for James to appear. If James appeared he could take him home, lead away from this horrible place, convince him that he didn't need to do this, that they could figure things out together.

But James wasn't there, so Teddy continued on.

He arrived at the same shop the man had detailed, a shabby looking potions supply store called i_Eye of Newt/i_, and hesitated before pushing the door open and walking inside.

The best word to describe the place was _dingy_. Half a dozen dead rats hung from strings attached to the cave like ceiling. A chill ran up Teddy's spine as an earsplitting ting of sorts was released at the closing of the door. Black soot brushed against the floor, skirting around him before flying towards the stone fireplace across the room.

There wasn't a single soul in the store that Teddy could see. He could hear conversation though, a dull hum of dialogue behind closed curtains at the back of the shop. Teddy was tempted to flee right then, make a run for it while the door handle was still warm. However during his moment of hesitation a man came silently from behind the curtain, dressed in dark robes of mahogany, and all plans in his head were forgotten.

At first glance the man appeared old, like any shopkeeper at Diagon he'd had years of back-biting mothers, hawk-shrieking children, and the odd customer that he counted as an equal. This was just a playing of his mind, because as Teddy watched the man walk closer he saw clear skin, white –not grey- hair and a smug tone about him, one that must have taken years to perfect.

"Can I help you with anything?" asked the strange man, a voice of gravel coming through his dry, crackled lips. He stood about three feet from Teddy, giving him curious, body-binding leers, making self consciousness flare up in the riddled gent.

"I'm looking for a Mr. Burke? Do you know where I might find him?"

The man spat on the floor, a grey tinge of wet goo that didn't resemble much of anything, and leant forward a little, "'Course I fucking do. Why the hell do you need him?"

Teddy smiled for the first time that morning and, with the knowledge that things were going moderately well, said in a secretive voice,

"I have something that just might interest him."

-.-

The man's arched eyebrows rose and he turned around, heading behind the dusty curtains to find the man Teddy sought after.

Salem Henderson had been a great girl growing up. Her dad would tell everyone he knew about the amazing drawings she drew, unicorns at 6, landscapes at 12, and portraits at 17. She was a Hufflepuff at Hogwarts, loyal and happy and fun – there wasn't a person who didn't like her.

Salem had a big, great smiling face. She wasn't particularly pretty, her eyes too wide apart, too goofy a grin, but she had had a long-term boyfriend, John, since school. They lived near Euston station, which they always took, because John was a Muggleborn and liked the tube far better than Apparation.

Salem was all these things and more, until the day of her twentieth birthday. She took the vial her friend offered her because everyone else was, and wasn't this just great? It was a fucking dream, she could see rainbows and sparkling fires, cute boys who just wanted to hold her hand. It was good stuff, costing a number of Sickles for a nice, easy trip.

Three months later James Potter found her on the street, ninety eight pounds with her hair falling out, standing on a street corner waiting for costumers. Selling her body to the night so she could get her fix later that day.

James, who had known her through school, could barely hold the bile in his throat as she collapsed in his arms.

-.-

They met up for lunch the next day, through word of the strange man. Teddy was tired, as always and really just wanted to get the meeting over with. He wasn't entirely sure he needed this man, although Benny was persistent in his story. Apparently this bloke, this Dominatus Burke, was the success behind every mass-drug trafficking in the past thirty years. That made him pretty old by Teddy's count, but wizards lived longer than Muggles anyways, so it wasn't unusual to see old blighters at the forefront of successes.

Teddy had tried to do a little research on the man, see how exactly he'd gotten his edge. From what he could tell, searching through one of the old Pureblood books in the Magical London Library, the Burkes had owned a large part of Knockturn once upon a time and Dominatus, being the son of the brother of _Borgin & Burkes_ had apprenticed at the Apothecary. Some family matters had gone down right after the war and they now owned a very small part of the area.

And that's all he could find out.

The meeting was set for a bar just on the edges of Knockturn, some place named Firestone and Sons. It was bleary enough on the inside to easily guess you wouldn't be finding Honeydukes counter girls there, but clean enough – begging for Diagon shoppers to rest their feet in there awhile.

Teddy was at a table near the back, surrounded by grim looking people and even more depressing curtains. Although he'd grown up knowing that there were poor people in the world, and they were no different rich ones once you took away the money, he still had to hold back a nose wrinkle and the state of people around him. His Muggle Studies teacher back at school was a huge fan of the '60s punk movement and was always talking about this place in New York, Max's Kansas City – some kind of club. The 'Warhol people' went there until it became pretty commercial, and although Professor Feldman ranted about the beauty of Lou Reed and Danny Fields arguing over drinks, Teddy imagined it was a lot similar to the bar.

A scruffy waitress in red robes took his order for a Firewhisky and fish & chips, as they were probably the only things that couldn't be contaminated with anything, germ wise or drug he didn't care. He sat back in the chair, trying to touch as little as possible.

The bell rang as the front door opened and a man entered. Teddy looked away; he was far too young to be the old man he looked after. However, barely a second passed before the man walked up to his table, putting out a hand.

"Dominatus Burke. You must be Teddy. Saw the hair."

Teddy started, looking up at the man who was, Merlin, couldn't be much older than thirty. Of course magic was a part of it, but it couldn't claim the dusty-dirt brown hair, the solid grey eyes, strong looking chest and tall, graceful legs. His mouth was set in a wide smile, inviting Teddy to instantly throw a hand out, shaking the man's quickly.

"Quite the locks you've got there," the man said, sitting down in the chair opposite him. "Any specific reason for the blue? You like those punk kids?" he asked, not unkindly, vaguely waving his fingers to the bar at the front.

"Well," Teddy contemplated, shifting his hair to red, green and then back to the blue, "not exactly."

Dominatus laughed, the action lighting up his whole face. He gave Teddy an appreciative look, accepting him almost instantly. "Clever," he grinned, turning to the waitress that had hurried her way over. "Very clever." He looked up at the woman, handing her the menu on the table without so much as glancing at it. "Jeanie, sweetheart. I'd love some fish. Do you have salmon, by chance? Maybe some trout?"

The waitress nodded quickly, "We'll find some for you sir. The salmon"

"Good, good. I want it fried, with some lemon on the side. No potatoes, some steamed asparagus instead, in a creamy cheese sauce. Understand?"

"Yes sir," she wrote furiously in her little notepad, ink splattering her nose a little. Teddy was a little stunned.

"Excellent. Now I'd love some wine, good Muggle stuff – Peter Lehman, 2006. The Stonewell Shiraz. And one for my friend here, that's two glasses. And the bottle, if you please."

He looked back at Teddy and leaned forward, clearly showing his desire for conversation. The woman left quickly, hurrying to the kitchen.

"I-" Teddy began then stopped himself and took a breath, "How did you…? None of that was on the menu, I don't understand how-"

Dominatus chuckled, bringing a hand up to his hair to push it away from his face. "When you get to be as infamous as me in this town, you'll see why I can do this."

Teddy watched, astounded, as he leaned back in his chair, reeking of wealth and power, of good food and a strong mind. Teddy felt an inkling in his stomach, something he had only felt twice in his life: when Victoire would talk about Weasley get-togethers that were ijust/i for family and the year James was 15, when he brought a friend home with him for the week and Teddy found him and_Adam_ shagging in his room.

It was jealousy. Pure, uncontrollable jealousy.

Here was this man, rich, powerful, literally the Al Capone of Knockturn Alley. He ordered what he wanted and got it quick, easy, with no mess-ups. If he wanted you, he got you. If he thought you were worth something, you got some of his time.

The way Dominatus held himself made Teddy more envious then watching Adam's head roll back, his hips thrusting into James's pretty mouth. His smirk, so careful and classy, makes more of an impact on the monster in his stomach than Adam's did when he saw Teddy standing in the doorway, watching his fingers clenched in James's hair. Teddy is more jealous at the way Dominatus can drum his fingers on the table twice to get attention, than when he watched James swallow as Adam came.

"So. My friend up at _Newt_'s says you have something for me, a proposition. I don't mean to be rude, but there are places to be and people to see, all that and more." He smiled charmingly, gesturing with one hand for Teddy to start talking. "Floor's yours."

Teddy clears his throat, wanting this man to believe him, wanting for once in his whole stupid life that he'll get everything right without messing things up.

"You see, Mr. Burke, I have this idea…"

A week later they were trafficking.

-.-

They were young, barely legal, stepping out onto the shoeless streets of London with nothing in mind except a wild, unforgiving night. They were flawless in their arrogance, megalomaniac, heartbreaking, seizing the day before the carpe diem mug hit the floor with a crash.

The drugs were only a small part of what they faced everyday. They were the beauty, not the drugs. They were beautiful in their youth, immortal, it didn't matter what they were swallowing, what sort of images ran through their heads.

They were violent, untrustworthy and numbing under the influence, running past the dark alleys every night with galleons to pay. They had high expectations, low expectations, great expectations for the world to grab them, shake them, say ithis generation is fun/i And they were fun, they exploded and cheered; they were fireworks.

Bright glares and stolen moments.

Lighting up the sky.

Dying young and burning out.

-.-

The partnership of Burke & Lupin ran 24 hours, 7 days a week. Behind stores, in alleyways, wherever, whenever. You came to them, unless you had the galleons for a home delivery. For the extra they'd come to your choice of location; a blue haired man in dark, nearly black robes; his face always slightly different. There were three prices for the dreams, but only one size they came in. At the factory they were known simply as 1, 2, and 3. On the streets they had different names, however.

First was Piss-Poor, the cheapest and worst one to buy. Only completely addicts bought this, when they had nothing else to pay with. The drug was half dream and half whatever they found to cut it with. They weren't vivid; they just left your brain jumbled for a long time afterwards. It was like jake in probation.

The next was called anything from Norm to Meh. These dreams were pretty good, kept with you in the morning and didn't make you throw up unless you overdosed. They had a good appeal to most addicts and teenage kids who ran around with their parent's money and the moot hope that going into Knockturn on a Friday night would ease their mischievous streak.

The last, and best drug, was like the strongest, cleanest, purest heroin. It was extremely expensive but possessed a long-lasting taste that was rumoured to stay with you for weeks at a time. It was called Mag – for magnificent or magnanimous, nobody knew.

However, no matter how much the drugs cost or what they did to your mind, they all had the same quality; extremely addictive.

Teddy worked in dealing, meeting people, selling them the stuff they wanted. His Metamorph abilities made him the best for the job and he gladly worked it. The Department of Mysteries held his curiousity streak, but he had never been able to run awhile – was chained down to his desk and his strange but clean colleagues.

Dominatus held down the fort, assigning friends of his to various jobs he needed to get done. He managed the stock, keeping the bottles in check, writing and managing inventory, paying rent and dividing the money at the end of the day.

He was also striving for something that Teddy thought ridiculous: he was working on international communications – trying to bring this new London phenomenon global.

Some nights, early-late in the morning when all Teddy wanted to do was go home, sneak into bed and make James cuddle him – or suck him off, whichever was easier – Dominatus would call him into his office.

Teddy would kneel by his side, looking over at the parchment strewn across the desk. Dominatus, like a lot of people in Teddy's life, adored his hair and constantly wanted to stroke it.

He would speak in a clean, even voice while stroking Teddy's hair, or let him brainstorm while Teddy's calloused hands rubbed on his shoulders, or promise Teddy he'd be involved in the next meeting, as he cautiously ran a hand down Teddy's side, his eyes searing for something more.

Then he'd let him run back home to James, expecting to see him earlier the next day for more work.

They predominately worked out of the top floor of _Newt_. There was a system set up, similar to the one in the Department of Mysteries, but much larger. There weren't any panels to view the dreams, only a tiny meter running out of the satellite-like device that received the dream frequencies. It used a special charm in order to determine whether the dream was good or bad, and how good the good dreams were.

The nice ones were sent to the right of the machine, where they were put through another detection charm. Both types, marvelous and good, were immediately bottled and stored in the crates at the bottom of the machine – ready to be sold.

The undesirable lot – dull dreams of camping and math class – went to the left, where they eventually went through another device, sending them back to their owners or catching another mind on the way and claiming that person's dreams.

-.-

Teddy Lupin spent every day watching hollowed eyes and shrunken skin approach him. He knew the consequences of the drugs, saw how it ruined people's lives, how deep they got, how quitting wasn't even a thought in their mind.

He ran the streets with them, continuing their habit, prodding them to buy more, to use what little money they had on more vials, more delicious bits of happiness that could make them feel whole again.

But sometimes, when the harsh reality of his own choices came upon him, Teddy would pop the stopper on a dream, glance down into the golden liquid and swallow it.

Every time was as amazing as the last; they made him pure and golden and float like he was weightless, like nothing would ever come crushing down. He couldn't curb it, was just as helpless with the freedom the dreams gave him, was just as pathetic and drugged and addicted as the young women with their veiny hands and wrinkly skin.

The only difference between him and the addicts was his stock.

He _never_ had anything less than Mag.

-.-

"What's up with you?" James asked Teddy one night after he'd come home late again, tired and angry, with broken knuckles after punching that guy Arty in the face because goddamn it –_where was his money?_- It was hard to meet worried eyes, knowing what Teddy knew about the day. Sometimes he wished that James would just give it up, make a mistake or two in their relationship so that every one he created didn't make him feel so bad.

"Nothing," he tried to say in an offhand way, never mind that he was never good at lying, wrapping a dirty, tainted arm around James's clean, pure waist. "Just met up with Benny in Diagon, got into a stupid fight with some pricks at the bar, you know how that can be."

Teddy watched his boyfriend smile, never doubting Teddy for a second, and kiss the bruised knuckles.

"You need to watch yourself. I'm not very good at healing charms, and I don't want you broken Teddy," James grinned, giving Teddy a kiss on the cheek and waltzing back to the pea soup bubbling away on the stove element.

Broken? Was that what he was? Snapped, chiseled, shot? Was he a write-off? And if yes, what would James do about that? He fell in love with good, strong, Potter-loved Teddy, but what about this new person that had taken over his body?

He wasn't too sure about James feelings, especially now that his were changing. He'd never wanted anything more than a lazy Sunday morning with James, but now as he watched his boyfriend bustle around their tiny kitchen his mind flooded back to his afternoon.

He remembered the way he put his hand on Burke's knee, something bigger than their previous entanglements, something more than a tumble after hours. The older man had leant forward, clutching at Teddy's head as he breathed down his neck. As Teddy felt the pants across his skin he came to the realization that he couldn't do shit all without Dominatus. He could not do a fucking thing without the man's connections, his charisma, the way he made others fall powerless around him. Teddy's rise for power would have to be a dual effort.

So when Dominatus took his elbow and led him outside he did not refuse. He followed the older man, let himself be pushed up against the hideous wall, attacked by hungry kisses. Teddy stayed quiet as he was forced down to his knees, taking him with no complaint. There wasn't a thought in his mind about cheating or lies or even fucking _James_, only pleasing this man.

And after, with his mouth all swollen, he had managed to choke out an i_I have a boyfriend/i_, not sure what it would do to the other man. Dominatus laughed, biting Teddy on his neck, as if to prove that it didn't matter if he had someone else – only he could take Teddy like that.

The afternoon had been a mistake and he needed to move past it.

With his collar high to cover the mark he had already magicked away, he joined his boyfriend in the preparations for dinner, laughing along with him easily, almost like nothing had happened that day.

Later that night, with James breathing heavily underneath him while Teddy forced himself into the younger man's body, he came to the conclusion that maybe – just maybe – it wasn't all about the gold. Perhaps, Teddy thought as he kissed James messily, pushing his cock harder into the man and watching him wriggle, there was something more that mattered.

Teddy became positive of this at his moment of climax, when, unintentionally, he lost control of his powers. This wasn't very unheard of, James tended to do strange things to his body, and he was used to going down on James as a brunette and rolling off him with purple hair, green eyes glowing.

This time though, it was his hands that decided to freak out. Just as Teddy's breathing went back to normal and he began pulling out of James so they could have their post-shag smoke, he heard a noise. Looking down, he noticed a very uncomfortable expression on James face, which only confirmed his fear that something bad had happened. And then the noise came once again, a little whimper that sounded a lot like _Teddy?_

He rolled off James in the next second, watching as the man squirmed before grasping a hand to his shoulder, and giving Teddy a mock-glare.

"You didn't hear me the first time?" James asked as he shifted his muscles, a tiny flash of pain crossing his face, "Didn't even know you could do that with your fucking nails."

Teddy shrugged helplessly, feeling something big and important growing in the pit of his stomach. He glanced down, watching the deep, dark, red crescents on James's shoulders move with his bones.

"Fuck, that hurt," James grinned, curling into Teddy's side and throwing an arm around his stomach. "I'll get you back for that, you bloody werewolf, Metamorph bloke-thing." He sighed, "I'm fucking knackered, mind if we go without the fag?"

Teddy nodded or shook his head, a bit of both and watched as James's eyelashes fluttered shut, then stared back at the ceiling.

Holy shit. Teddy hadn't felt that good in awhile. He had made James whimper. He'd made him hurt. Teddy Lupin had made Auror-training, little-sister-defending, Quidditch dominating, boundary jumping, Harry fucking Potter's son say _ow_.

Nothing ever felt that good, the knowledge that he was on top. He had power over someone that had always been untouchable to him.

And so, on a late February night, with the wind howling past his bedroom window and James Potter curled into his side, Teddy had an epiphany.

It _wasn't_ all about the money. It was all about what the money brought him, what kind of power he received when he was worth more than the person under him.

-.-

It wasn't exactly unusual to see Scorpius Malfoy in the Auror office. He'd been into a couple scuffles before, and tended to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when parties were busted. But this time it wasn't his fault.

The death of Tony Anderson had many inquires on it, and as Scorpius had been a good friend of his, it was only natural that he go in for questioning. So while Scorpius sat in the interrogating room in the Auror office, a trainee sat in the chair in the corner from him, filling out the Daily Prophet's crossword.

"6 letters," the man mumbled under his breath, tickling his own chin with his own quill. "Famous heroes."

Scorpius could not help but roll his eyes and he said quite clearly, "Potter."

It took a second but then – "Oh. Thanks mate." Scorpius caught the end of the wink sent to him.

Coughing awkwardly he tried again, "Um, well… Potter. Good lot. Yeh. Speaking of, I don't suppose you remember my earlier request-"

"Look mate," the man sighed, standing up. The badge on his robes proudly displayed AUROR RICHARDS. "You can't exactly _choose_ your interrogator. It's not exactly… allowed."

"Richards. I mean, Mr. Richards." Scorpius wasn't above begging. "Auror Potter and I go back. We're old friends. I'm sure he'd love to see me-"

"Psh, even more reason why he can't be here," Richards smartly said. "Honestly, I can't-"

Scorpius also wasn't above sexual favours, "How about a blowjob? I give a mean blowjob. D'you want one?"

"Merlin!" exclaimed Richards, laughing a little but looking altogether uncomfortable. "Why don't you save it for White when he gets here? Or get some drinks with Potter later, eh?"

The door opened, cutting Scorpius on his retort and Richards looked up, praying Auror White was there.

However, a tousled hair, sleepy-eyed James Potter stood in the doorway instead, walking quickly into the room with two folders under his right arm.

"Joseph had to go home early," he said tiredly. "Something about his mother. I'm all we got apparently."

"Merlin Potter." Richards gave James a quick one-over. "When's the last time you slept mate?"

James just smiled, patting him on the shoulder as he took the seat opposite Scorpius, riffling through the files. Richards left with a sigh and as the door slammed shut brown eyes caught pale blue ones with a grin.

"Been awhile, eh Scorp?"

Scorpius smiled widely. Although it was he and Al who had been in the same year, James was the brother he liked better. Scorpius was a party animal and though James tended to be kind of quiet at time, Al brought a whole new definition to bookish. "You know me. Hell if I ever keep an address book."

James laughed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. Scorpius looked on with a quiet smirk,

"Lupin treating you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," James trailed off, shooting Scorpius a sarcastic smile. "He's doing fine. Work's driving me mad though. All they're talking about is the mass-murderer in Edinburgh – as if there are no problems in London…"

"About that," Scorpius began, a little awkwardly as he scratched his neck with one hand. "A friend of mine, well, he was killed about-"

"Tony Anderson." James's eyes turned sad, frown starting on his face, "Yeah, I was there when they checked out the crime scene. COD was accidental overdose, right?"

"No. It wasn't accidental."

Scorpius leaned back, looking away from James and his understanding eyes. He'd gotten over Tony's death, just like he'd been taught to by his father, who always used to say some old Dumbledore quote, something about pitying live people, not the dead and yada yada.

"It wasn't an overdose. I know him; he wouldn't have done something like that. Besides, he was cleaning up – getting into less harmful drugs, you know?"

James sighed, running a hand through his auburn hair, eyeing Scorpius, "So you're saying it was a straight, no-hitting murder. Someone _wanted_ Tony dead?"

"They weren't clean drugs. They were like dirt, purposely bad for you and..." he trailed off at the look James gave him. Scorpius swallowed. "Look, I know you can't take my word for it. I get that, no one believes a Malfoy. But I swear on my life – Tony's death wasn't an accident."

James sighed again, "Scorp, mate, I want to help you out but we don't even have a case on it yet, and even if we did, I don't know where to begin-"

"I can show you," Scorpius said desperately. "I can bring you to the place where he bought it."

-.-

It was late one night, dark and rainy and fucking depressing, when Teddy came into Dominatus's office with murder in his eyes.

He had just come back from Manchester, after standing out in the rain for hours, waiting for this supposed customer who would be coming via Portkey down from Finland, intent on buying out two crates of dreams to get the people of Helsinki onto the new craze. This meant wonders for the workers back at _Newt_, more money flooded in, maybe even some new employees, a new office, cleaner floors, a better security system.

It would have been a breakthrough; if the bastards had shown.

Teddy was dripping all over Dominatus's carpeted floor, but he didn't give a damn about that. He was pissed. He didn't want to keep doing this, running around like a second-rate employee in the company _he_ had created. There wouldn't have been anything if he hadn't taken Benny's half-arsed idea and turned it into something pure, strong, able to withstand the odds. And what right did Dominatus have in taking that away?

"I'm sick and fucking tired of dealing," he said clearly, anger wafting off his words. "I'm not your fucking dog so stop treating me like one."

Dominatus barely batted an eyelash, looking up at Teddy from his desk with nothing more than open curiousity in his eyes.

"The deal didn't go well I take it?"

Teddy's hand clenched and he could feel his hair darken, "No, you bastard it didn't fucking go well."

Teddy couldn't remember the last time he had sworn so much, the last time his hair had turned that shade of black.

Dominatus stood, his eyes on Teddy, quiet but wild anger in his eyes, "What did you just say?" he asked in a whisper.

"I said, you complete bastard, that I'm fucki-"

Suddenly Teddy was at the wall, held up by an invisible spell. He groaned as his head hit the stone of the wall. Dominatus came to stand in front of him, his eyes burning.

"Listen to me you ungrateful, domestic fuck." He spoke almost casually, wand out, hand moving into Teddy's hair. "You ever say that to me again and I'll kill you so fast you won't have time to scream. Got that?"

He yanked Teddy's hair hard, throwing his head back to the wall. Teddy yelped, his vision going spotty, his head pounding, "Leave me alone you-"

"I said," Dominatus whispered, frighteningly close to Teddy's ear. "Do you got that?"

Teddy whimpered, closing his eyes.

"You're weak, spineless." Dominatus kept going, taking him down word by word. "You think you're so superior to those addicts running on the street but really you're worst then them. You think I didn't notice the missing vials? You think I couldn't tell when you would drink it before coming in to see me?"

He turned Teddy around in a flash, pinning his chest to the wall as he reached around, unbuttoning his trousers, "I'm the only chance you've got, _Mr. Lupin_ so you'd better stay on my side or you can say goodbye to your little sidekick."

He pushed Teddy's trousers down, then his pants, biting down hard on his shoulder. Teddy breathed heavily against the wall.

"You're mine you little fuck." Dominatus barely spit on his prick before shoving it in between Teddy's arse cheeks, and up into his body. Teddy cried out in pain, "I've got you and there isn't a thing you can do about it."

Dominatus pushed into Teddy again and again, harder and harder. He fucked him into the wall without a care in his mind, Teddy's shoulders hitting the cold stone with every upstroke, unable to protect himself against Dominatus's slaughter.

Dominatus pulled out long enough to come all over Teddy's arse, making the semen drip down his legs, making Teddy feel dirty all over. His fingernails closed around the back of Teddy's neck as he panted in his ear.

"Now," he said, voice sickly sweet. "you come over and sit on my lap. I've got a present for you."

He left him then. Teddy, eyes still closed, turned around. He opened them to see Dominatus, sitting on his office chair, a vial full of golden liquid in his hand.

He didn't have a choice. He went over, sat on Dominatus's lap and begged for it.

-.-

"For the love of Merlin's saggy pants, Harry - this is the third one this week." A hushed voice carried down the hall from James, as he came out of the Auror offices one night, laden down with papers.

He heard his father's voice next, clear and proud even in hiss, "I get that Ron, I really- do you know who you're talking to?" Harry sighed.

James's heart throbbed uncomfortably as he swallowed his fear, walking down the corridor towards them. His black dress shoes barely echoed. Uncle Ron was leaning against one wall, hand running through his deep, red hair, while Harry tapped his feet in front of him.

"C'mon Harry," Ron mumbled, lifting his head higher. "We need to put a team together at least. Check it out. We know something's up and we've gone on less than that before."

"We can't afford to take any of my guys off the Harrington case. We _know_ there's a killer there. And that'll only leave trainees anyway so-"

"Hell, I think one would do it. Considering right now we're doing shit all to figure things out-"

"Excuse me, Auror Weasley." James stood perfectly still, perfectly straight, holding out two different files for his uncle. "These are reports from last month's Jensen case."

Ron's blue eye's immediately filled with the same mix of sympathy and sadness that they did every time he saw James. Harry on the other hand, did not look at his son at all.

"Thank you Potter," Ron said gruffly.

"You're welcome." James turned, as if to leave, and then stopped – slowly pivoting until he was facing the Senior Auror again.

"Y'know, sir, I was recently interrogating someone for a death that had something to do with drug overdose." Ron nodded quickly pressing him to continue. "Anyways, the man – Tony Anderson, he was a good friend of a good friend of mine: Scorpius Malfoy-"

"James, we can't exactly take information from a Malfoy. Sorry."

Immediately understanding his mistake, and _fuck why did he say that?_, James changed his tactics, "No, you see – he gave me this address for a store in Knockturn where Tony apparently got all his stuff from."

"And you want to know if you can go there." This time it was Harry, speaking directly to his son for the first time in months.

James leveled his father with a look, trying to look brave but probably looking just like he did when he was five, hurt after falling off his broom or caught making a fort under his father's big Auror desk or being lectured after throwing crayons at Albus.

"Yes sir." That's right James, head back, eyes straight ahead, Merlin he's getting grey in his hair, don't look at it James, you're strong.

It was silent for a while, as all three men tried to-

"You can do it." Ron said suddenly, clapping James on the shoulder. "Grab Jennings. She'll be on maternity in a couple weeks, but you can use her for now. By then we'll have the Harrington case done. Hopefully."

James grinned, ihis first case/i. "Thank you sir, Head Auror." He nodded at both of them.

Harry immediately took off down the hall, brandishing his arm slightly, gesturing for Ron to follow him. Ron turned to go but then turned back to James. He leaned in to his ear and whispered,

"You'll do great Jamie."

-.-

They were sitting in the room above _Newt _one night, drinking Firewhiskys back while going through their money, when Dominatus said it.

"You know Ted, you really ought to drop that job of yours. It's interfering with business."

Teddy looked up, surprised at first, but then not really. Hadn't he been thinking that for months now? Drop the job, work on the trafficking full time?

"I'm not sure," Teddy took a swipe at his drink and wiped his mouth. "Right now it's the only alibi I have. I mean, I live with an Auror for Merlin's sake, and he's starting to get suspicious."

"Right, right." Dominatus looked away from Teddy, pushing all the gold galleons into one of the many bags he carried around, tying the drawstring up at the top. "I understand completely."

But there was something in his tone.

"What is it?"

"Well Teddy, I get that you're trying to make ends meet here, but I have a question." Dominatus pierced him with his grey stare and Teddy started, twirling left leg nervously under the table and pressing his fingers to his mouth – a nervous action he'd kept from childhood.

"Do you really want this?"

"What do you mean?" Teddy asked slowly, trying to find some clues in his employer's eyes.

"I don't think you want this bad enough. You should be on your hands and knees, begging for an opportunity like this and yet… Think logically Teddy, I know you can do it," he had a mocking smile now, eyes burning into Teddy's, "You don't need your job. Hell – we've set up a system here, right now, that bottles dreams a hell of a lot faster and better than how you're doing at the Ministry. We don't need you bringing in stuff anymore. We've got our tools. And we'd be doubling the profit with you working here every night. So why do you make excuses?"

"Like I said… my boyfriend is an Auror and he's already-"

In a flash he felt sharp pointed fingernails over his heart and Dominatus's hand clutched him closer, harsh breath whispering in his ear. Fear flooded him and he wished, not for the first time, that there was something else running through his mind; the magic liquid that would help him think his way out.

"You want it. I know you do. So do it. Go."

Teddy took a deep, shuttering breath and nodded slowly, closing his eyes.

"Okay." He said, signing his life away as Dominatus's fingers tightened. "Okay, I will."

-.-

James Potter was used to Scorpius's crazy ideas. When they were at school he constantly tried to make James mad, pulling pranks on the Hufflepuffs and the teachers, but mostly just Albus. They had become friends when James was in fourth year, the year he decided his parents were horrible and he wanted nothing more than to piss them off. That faze ended eventually, but his friendship with the young Pureblood heir never did.

"Seriously James, you have to take the potion."

James sighed, "Scorp, I'm an Auror, I think I can figure out another way to-"

"No. Polyjuice is the only way. You've got to be someone they recognize, but not someone they've seen a lot of time. You have to look druggie, but not too bad, otherwise they won't believe you when you want to look around."

James was disbelieving, "How the fuck do you know all this?"

"Please think back to the party in fifth year," Scorpius said rolling his eyes. "Now who brought all the Gillyweed?"

James nodded, looking around at the park they were sitting in. Scorpius said it would be their safest place, but James wasn't too sure. He found it strange that they could talk about drugs and schemes so close to little kids playing on swings. It wasn't right. "Okay. Fine. Who's hair?"

Scorpius's smile faded a little, and he coughed, "Tony's. He was a vain guy, always had a comb. Left one at my house before he… you know."

James watched as Scorpius looked straight ahead. He hesitantly brought an arm around Scorpius's shoulders, hand playing with his slightly-too-long hair.

"Hey, man if this is too hard for you we can think of something else-"

Scorpius turned around wildly, looking at him like he was crazy. "Are you kidding me? The whole reason I'm doing this in the first place is so that no one else has to lose someone like I did. Okay? We're not giving up just cause it's," he rolled his eyes, "_hard_."

James smiled. That right there was what he loved about Scorpius Malfoy. No bullshit. "Alright," he said softly, giving him a quick little shake on the arm. "What now?"

"Now," his partner said, a feral grin starting up on his face, "We make shit happen." He looked over at James and winked. "Give me your arm."

"Now Scrop, you know I'm with Teddy-"

"Never bothered me before." James laughed and grabbed his friend's arm.

Scorpius turned and they Disapparated.

James felt his feet hit the pavement and stumbled to regain upright. Next to him Scorpius was wobbling, taking in the alley. James did the same.

It was cold, rather dank actually, with a permanent smell – a cross between cigarette smoke and piss. There were large puddles between the cobblestone walkways, butts lying across them as well, a pile of old cauldrons in the corner of the alley, broken apple cores, large rats scurried past their feet. Both men regarded the place with sharp eyes, but neither had a look of disgust on his face. James had been there during training and Scorpius's father had many a business opportunity go down in the same dark alleys.

James quickly unscrewed the stopper to his flask full of Polyjuice and downed the silver, slightly murky liquid. He heaved over, hands on his face as it became to bumble and brew into something completely different then the light eyes, dark freckles and thin lips he knew.

He was shorter by a little, but had a wider chest, so his robes were a little tight. His face seemed longer, his nose shorter, his ears roughly the same.

Scorpius gasped behind him. James turned to see him looking at him, his eyes too bright.

"Tone…" Scorpius said, swallowing lightly. "God, you look just like Tony."

James felt horrible, "Look, Scorp, I can-"

"No!" he yelled into the night, grabbing James by the arm. "We have to go. Quickly, before it's dawn. C'mon!"

They stumbled down the alley and out onto the street. There was glass on the edges of the cobblestone, dark store windows covered in drapes. They walked quickly past the people on the sidewalk, resembling moving piles of fabric better than human beings. Scorpius's hand on James's wrist was a constant reminder to him that what he was experiencing was not a dream. He couldn't wake up from any of it. The people on the streets on Knockturn Alley truly were as badly off as everyone said they were.

"We're going to get this guy," James whispered in Scorpius's ear. "No one deserves to live like this."

"You've got that right."

They passed a pub, loud, raucous yells coming from the interior. As James watched a man went shooting through the glass window on a broom, cackling madly.

Scorpius stopped suddenly, at the opening to yet another dark, dreary passageway. James nearly fell into him, but caught himself at the last moment. He watched his companion's eyes as it took in the alley, sweeping along past the rats.

"C'mon." Scorpius said hesitantly, nudging James in with him as he took off down the walk. "This is where we went last time."

James followed him, trying to regain some of the knowledge he had learned in Auror School. Of course, he thought, the first thing he should have done was call for backup. The next would be to wait for that backup. They always told you, three times a day, to never go anywhere by yourself.

_Well_, thought James to himself again as he listened to his steps echo in the alley. _technically I'm not all alone. I've got Scorpius._

There was a light, at the end, coming from a streetlight that looked like it had been through one too many Knockturn days. Under it stood two men. As Scorpius and James came towards them the shorter man ran off, scampering into the shadows with what looked like a glass vial in his hands.

"That's the last one, I swear Arty! Don't come back!" the other man yelled, turning towards them. "What the fuck you after then?"

The man was tall, taller than Scorpius and James, even James without his Tony disguise. He had a large nose, big green eyes and a scowling, dark little mouth. His hair, wild and curly, was blue.

Scorpius began, "Hey, we've got some stuff here before and we were wondering-"

"Yeah, yeah. I remember you." The man took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it quickly with his wand. "Fortnight ago?Surprised you came back actually. I gave you some shit stuff."

Scorpius coughed, so James continued, "Yeh. We were wondering if-"

"No," the stranger smiled a strange smile, "you don't get any deals just because you've been here before. Sorry, but the price is still the same." He blew smoke in James's face. "So what'll it be then?"

The man was starting to piss James off. He started again, "We were wondering," he said, eyes narrowing, "If there was anyway we could get inside the place tonight." He hooked his head to the door behind the man, where a small Newt getting his head chopped off was painted, "We'd like to look around."

The stranger's eyes narrowed, making them look black. His hand trembled as he took the cigarette from his mouth and dropped it under his foot, stamping it out.

"Sorry," he said, not sounding very sorry at all. "No visitors allowed tonight."

"But-"

The man stepped into James, grabbing him by his robes. "You've got two options. Buy some. Or leave. You choose."

The man's breath wafted in his face. James was about to throw a punch or something, but Scorpius grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"Let's get out of here Tony," he said, a bit gruffly. "We'll try another time."

-.-

"Teddy fucking Lupin!" Denver laughed as the group walked down to their favourite pub, a ten minute walk away from their office. "How does it feel man?"

"How does what feel?" Teddy asked, a slight smile on his face. He had taken a dream ten minutes before they had run to go out and celebrate his last day. He was okay.

"You never have to go back to that shithole again!" Stan shouted, grabbing him round the neck and pushing him through the door of the pub.

"Our office?" Teddy looked around at the place; the bar that had once seemed taunting and foreign to him was now like a princess's castle. It was just so… clean.

"The Ministry!" laughed Danny, and they all joined along with him. Benny went to go fetch them some drinks as Stan steered Teddy towards a booth seat. He sat there, watching his old friends around him as they exchanged stories, laughing about stupid mistakes at works and problems at home.

Teddy glanced around at them all as they sipped their beers and laughed, and felt as if he was sitting with a bunch of strangers. They weren't compatible to him anymore, not any of them. He was danger, dirt, homeless addiction and undercover identity. He was illegal, filthy, in the middle of an affair. He was on a different planet then the men around him.

He excused himself to the bathroom. He left through the front door. He Apparated back into Newt.

Teddy could already see Arty outside the door, begging the bouncer to let him in. There were a couple of French dealers in the corner, comparing lists to the crates in front of them. Above him he could hear the gentle hum of the dream sorting machine.

And just around the corner, he walked towards it, was Dominatus's office, grand and wonderful, where the man would be waiting his return, ready with a pat on the head and a hand up his shirt, because Dominatus understood him, understood the way he was now, the way he would be forever.

Teddy took a deep breath before pushing the door open.

This was his home.

-.-

Barb's Magic Salon, located just off Yonge Street, was one of the prominent hairdressers in Toronto. Barb Kokorev, the owned, was a Ukrainian woman who had come over in the early 2000s as a teenager. She had stepped into Pearson Airport with light luggage in hand and was immediately taken by the city.

Year later, following a name change from Olva to Barb (after her favourite Broadway singer), she now owned a successful salon, managed a husband and two children, and sang every Sunday in church.

Underneath the 1950's styled tile floor of her salon, the swinging chairs and tinseled windows there was a dimly lit cellar. It housed boxes with broken hair equipment, straightners, curling irons, crimpers and more. The other boxes, more broken down, held bells and bows and Christmas trees.

It was here that Barb's daughter, Emma, practiced with her band. They were called the Toronto Pigeons and had a bit of a buzz going, especially around the suburban indie-teens in the outskirts of the city.

The most memorable of all the shows was one that happened on January 18th, 2027. It was the second major gig they ever got, opening for Durmstrang Rats: a band from somewhere in Russia. They played at The Docks.

After the show they came together at Emma's cellar, her parents having won tickets to go see Broadways' comeback Billy Elliot on the radio. The Rats went with them downstairs, with their funny accents, clutching thick scarves against the snowy Canadian winter – so similar to the frozen tundra they grew up in.

Emma and her friend Ken had some crack saved from a New Year's party, and we're just about ready to delve into it, when the drummer from the Rats laughed heartily at them.

He pulled out a vial, a pretty glass one with some strange markings on it, from his coat pocket. He explained, in broken Pidgin English, that he had gotten it in Moscow, just before they departed off the –and he stumbled particularly hard at this word- plane. Apparently it was all the rage in England, or so said the man he'd bought it from.

Emma, never one to give up a challenge, poured the vial into her new bottle of Absolute and shook it up. They passed it around for the rest of the night, laughed and choking and all commenting on the weird fucking zebras that were dancing before their eyes. Ken, in his half state of mind couldn't quite believe it – how exactly did they all see the same thing?

The next day the Russians were gone but the buzz wasn't.

The Toronto Pidgeons spent the rest of the month searching for something like the magic they had tasted that night. Eventually, on a cold, frigid day in February they found a dealer, knee deep in snow on Bloor Street, exchanging money for vials. He took their paper money with a sad smile and a nod.

As Emma held her vial in victory, a great smile stretching across her face, she saw the symbols on the ornate glass. There was a large D with a tiny little T inside it, so small it looked as if the D had engulfed it whole.

-.-

He saw James through the window, waiting at their usual Sunday night table, drumming his fingers on the sugar packets in front of him.

Teddy smoothed his hair down, checking briefly to make sure his clothes didn't look dirty or ruffled or smudged. It was now daily practice for Dominatus to push him up against a brick wall and whisper business suggestions while he pounded ruthlessly into Teddy.

Teddy wished desperately that he had taken a vial before he left Knockturn. His stomach was gnawing on itself and the headache he had was throbbing in his head.

He sniffed once to make sure he didn't smell homeless before pushing the door and walking inside the little diner. The lights were low, subtle, and didn't make his hair flash up like gold – kept the brown tresses brown as a tree stump. The waitress led him to his seat, recognizing him easily from the mountains of Sundays he'd come there.

James didn't even look up as he sat down, choosing instead to read the menu that had been memorized months ago. Teddy was about to apologize, grovel and make excuses, but something in him made him stop. His mind caught up with his tongue and caught the mood of the table.

James wasn't angry. James was hurt.

That knowledge was like a spike of nitrates to his poor, power hungry insides. The comment fell dead on Teddy's lips and instead he waved at a passing waiter, ordering the fish and chips covered in vinegar for himself while ordering James the pea and hambone soup, bread on the side, and two cups of Orange Pekoe for both of them, please?

Silence fell as the waiter departed, both men trying to avoid looking at the other. It was painfully awkward, something the two of them almost never were. Teddy broke it after a minute.

"I was shopping in Diagon and lost track of time."

James remained silent. Teddy nudged his toe against James's leg and the other man moved it. Brows furrowed, he tried again,

"It's really not too hard to believe James. Besides, I'm only…" he checked his watch and saw the minute hand resting near the ten. Shit. Fourty-five after? He would have been angry too.

"Look, you know as well as I do that they've no clocks in Blotts and Flourish." Please recognize it, thought Teddy. C'mon it's our thing, always been our thing to say it like that. _Please_.

Teddy hated pleading, even if it was only internally. Having seen no change in James's demeanor, not even a quick-smile-dimple appearing, he changed tactics,

"Merlin James, what the fuck do you want me to say?"

James looked up at him, hurt shining proudly in his brown depths, "How about sorry?"

"What?"

"I said," James's quiet voice grew stronger, "why don't you say sorry?"

"Christ, I'm sorry. Merlin, you know I'd never do anything to hurt you." Mostly. "I just lost track of time, honest."

James nodded, skeptically, but happy with the answer. Teddy on the other hand tried to ignore the guilt, gnawing at his insides.

"So… Diagon then?" James asked, making a pyramid out of sugar packets that Teddy loved to knock over, seeing the look of mock horror on his face. "What book were you looking for?"

It barely took Teddy a second to answer, getting as used to lying as one could be, it came to him easily now, "This weird hardcover on the differences between Muggle philosophy of dreams and the way we wizards view it in Divination and things. Muggles tend to see it as a reference to what happened the previous day; you get a dream about elephants if you went to the circus hours before. But wizards see them as fortunes for the future." He coughed awkwardly, "They didn't have it. The book, I mean."

Teddy knew he babbled; he had history of speaking hardly coherently for hours on end about things he was incredibly passionate about. But as he looked up he caught James's smile, a full grin that made his stomach swell because Merlin, only _James_ would love him at a time like this.

"Look at you geeking out." James grabbed his hand, leaning forward. "You're so crazy about this stuff, it's adorable." He kissed Teddy's lips lightly, then pulled away, ducking his head under the table and returning with a small box. "I got this for you, well Harry MacMillian at school said he had this sister who worked at this jewelry, you know it doesn't matter, anyways long-story-short… here you go." James handed him the box and Teddy, already filled to the brim with something he hadn't felt in a while, took it.

He opened the lid slowly and saw a thick, iron loop, metallic blue in colour but it was black in the dark, the perfect size for the hole in his right ear. Teddy had a surge of that same, vaguely familiar emotion as he reached up to remove the plastic stud in his ear.

"You are seriously the best, I swear. Thank you so much James." He hooked the new earring into the hole and smiled brightly, "Fucking love you - you know that. C'mere."

The kissed over the table for a minute, all sweet lips and smiles and soft, prodding tongues before a cough from the waitress broke them up. Teddy hadn't felt that good in awhile, and for a moment he almost felt like pre-dream Teddy, pre-Dominatus Teddy. It wasn't quite as good as the dreams, but it felt more sturdy, natural.

He ate his chips with vinegar, laughing as James recounted his day, making up a quick story about his supposed time in Diagon, letting each other take bites of their food. They left the diner by six, which was late for them as James had to be at the Ministry by 10:30pm and Teddy was expected anytime after 9 for his meetings.

James Apparated them home.

They hadn't even closed the door behind them, could still hear the landlady yelling for the rent, when they were kissing. One shirt was off, two shirts and then they were both bare-chested, scrabbling at one another, James against the door and then Teddy was; hands everywhere.

Trousers were unzipping, belts clanking together, and then Teddy felt James's hand, pressing against his stomach, then lower, moving under the waistband of his pants. They kissed again, Teddy's hands favoured to stay at his lover's face, while James's moved lower, grabbing and clutching and stroking.

Suddenly James was on his knees, but Teddy wasn't sure if it was James's decision or his own. It doesn't seem to matter though because Teddy's hands were in his hair then and he was thrusting in and out of James's pretty pink mouth, groaning and gasping. James was making noises too, but Teddy didn't register them as he tugged James off his cock and pulled him towards their couch.

They fell on top of it together, a mess of limbs and starving organs. Their mouth kissed again and again, as Teddy flipped them around so James was on the bottom.

Pushing, pushing, Teddy whispered in his ear, James cried out, pulsing, pressure and then silence.

Afterwards, holding each other on the couch with just the brief touches of kisses on sweat soaked skin, James told him. He passed their cigarette back to Teddy and then opened his mouth,

"They've put me on a case."

Teddy could feel the anxiousness in James's body so he pressed his lips to the man's temple, "That's great. When'd you get it, today?"

James shrugged, "A couple days ago. Maybe a week?"

Silence.

"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Teddy, confused because they told each other everything – well, James did.

"Don't know."

They sat in the silence, both thinking a mile a minute, trying to figure out what was going on in the others' head. James rolled over slightly on their couch, so he could see Teddy, grabbing the cigarette from his lips. He took a long drag and then wandlessly banished it.

Teddy spoke, eyes not moving from James's, "Well I'm happy for you. What's the job?"

"It's weird actually, as far as first cases go." James looked down at his hands, playing with the hair on Teddy's stomach. "Usually you do help on a murder, but this is different. No kiss-kiss-bang-bang, you know? Bit more…" he struggled for the right words then laughed, "Bit more Cheech meets Chong."

As per usual, Teddy could hardly make out what James and his bizarre Muggleness was saying, but he did recognize the last part.

"Chong? What's that one about again?"

"Oh – drugs." James watched Teddy's eyebrows rise. "Yeh, apparently someone's trafficking in Diagon."

Teddy's breath faltered, his eyes shut and all the things Teddy had forgotten about while he was with James came rushing back.

"Trafficking?" he could hear himself ask in an off-voice. "Like Muggles?"

He felt James shrug and then he spoke, "Yeah, quite the slut, by the way these guys get around, apparently. Only a bunch of druggies are involved so far, so the Ministry's not too worried – but word's getting around so…"

_Quite the slut_, oh, if only James knew.

_Only druggies_, yes, but things were happening, it' was getting global.

_Not too worried_, well that was a little insulting.

And just like that the poison had returned, rushing into his stomach, his heart, his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. He was in too deep, too far to think that something as young and clean as James could possibly cure him of his brush with power, with the dreams.

The only cure he could get was overdose, an excess of drugs and power, Hitler like forces surrounding him, presidency, a kingdom. He wanted it all, every bit of corruption he could get his hands on, and he wanted it with a glass vial in his hand.

James was only standing in his way. James, not nearly as great as Dominatus, would never, could never understand him.

-.-

Each dream was different.

Before each trip Stuart Flagstone would try to guess where he'd be this time. Maybe on a Moroccan desert, battling mermaids for a giant pearl. Maybe stealing a pirate's gold, giving it too a French Veela and getting married to her. Or perhaps he'd be on the moon, dancing with the American flag.

This was the best part of Stuart's day, when he'd found some, and was going to use it. He wasn't homeless or scared, lonely in an alleyway with nothing to eat – no, not when those brilliant memories took hold of his body. It wasn't bad or addictive then; it just _was_, in time and place. He wouldn't be regretting his decisions yet, wouldn't try to recall what his mother had always told him, wouldn't be looking at the disgusted looks on people's faces as they walked on by. Because, just like the blue-haired man had said, they might have wealth and family and a place to call home, but he had happiness.

Happiness in a bottle.

-.-

Teddy wiped his mouth as Dominatus zipped up his trousers, gesturing for him to take the seat in front of his. The man looked very satisfied as he spoke to Teddy.

"How're things going then?"

Teddy shrugged, a grin on his face. "All of Knockturn has completely bowed down to us. No one is taking anything else but dreams. Muggle London is starting to do the same, but there are some places we still haven't got complete power over, particularly in the Camden area.

"Our people overseas say that Toronto's in the bag, New York's on its way and Las Vegas should be taken over by Wednesday. Moscow's good, Hong Kong, even Tokyo. The Muggle drugs don't stand a chance."

Dominatus sighed happily, a huge smile stretched across his face, "Excellent! Ahh, there's nothing better than world domination, is there Ted?"

Teddy's grin grew wider; his dilated pupils making him seem almost wolf-like. "No sir."

Dominatus grabbed two crystal glasses from the compartment in his ornate desk. He placed one on the table for himself, and one for Teddy. He then brought up a bottle of 30 year old Dragon Gin. Teddy shook his head,

"Oh no, sir, I've just taken-"

"Come now Ted! One drink won't kill you! We should be celebrating."

Teddy was hesitant, but he took the drink in his hand as the bottle poured dark, nearly black liquid into his cup. Dominatus clinked their glasses together.

"To domination!" he yelled.

"To domination!" Teddy echoed.

They both shot back their drinks at the same time. Teddy held his head while Dominatus chuckled. He leaned forward, swirling the remaining liquid around in his glass.

"Now, Teddy." His eyes turned serious, but there was still a smile playing on his face. "I wanted to discuss something, something I think we might hit it off with."

Teddy tried to look cautious, but his mixed up brain couldn't decipher exactly what was happening. And his head still hurt. "What's that?"

"Well, you know as well as I do that we're doing just great in our business. The numbers will prove that to you, sure, but really all you need to do is look outside the door of this building and you'll see how many depend on this thing in their lives."

Teddy nodded, looking away so that Dominatus wouldn't see his eyes, even if he knew what Teddy had just done anyways. He felt like a petulant child, like he should be punished for being no better than the addicts outside the door.

"Our system upstairs works pretty great. But I notice that only half the dreams get bottled up. What happens to the rest of them?"

Dominatus leaned forward, his eyes resting on Teddy, set on the answer. Teddy sifted through his cloudy head for the answer, anything to please him.

"Umm… the bad ones that is, or the mediocre I guess… they- they go back. To their owners. Or to any person's mind on their way out. It all just depends how… how strong they are."

Teddy looked into his glass, then up at Dominatus. His eyes were glowing and a strange sort of smile was on his face. He tilted his head and spoke to Teddy as if he were a child,

"And why would we want to throw those away?"

Teddy's brow furrowed immediately. Wasn't the answer obvious to him? No one would buy bad dreams, that didn't make sense? Why would you take heroin that made you sad?

He voiced this outloud, "No one wants to buy bad dreams."

"Really?" asked Dominatus, his eyes twinkling as he set back in his chair. "Cause I would. Oh yes, I would indeed."

Teddy was still confused so he stood up, coming to kneel next to Dominatus. He put his head in the man's lap, nudging him to explain himself, please sir, please explain.

"Teddy," the man began, one hand sifting through the younger man's hair while the other brought the glass back up to his mouth. "They'd be good for something. Don't you see it? Can't you picture it the way I can?"

Teddy shook his head, mouth sliding over the fabric covering Dominatus's crotch.

"Nightmares. Real live nightmares." His voice has an edge to it, a spark of something that wasn't there before. "Right now we've got drug addicts and teenage kids and tired businessmen into our stuff. But we could be better. We could be great."

"How?" Teddy asked weakly.

"Dreams are for pleasure. Dreams are for when you need an escape." Dominatus sighed. "But nightmares… they're for when you want someone punished. When someone's not doing what they're told and they need a little… dark fantasy to keep them on their toes."

Teddy could imagine it. People lost inside their heads, in agony, because they couldn't choose when to wake up, they couldn't just stop when mum had cancer, oh no – they would have to see it through till the end of the dream, till the moment of truth, when a person's brain became the fiery pits of hell.

It was brilliant of course, completely brilliant.

"That's amazing sir." Said Teddy, looking up into his eyes. He meant it.

Dominatus smiled down at him, cupping his face. "Stevens!" he yelled, eyes never wandering from Teddy's. "I want you to get the New York Mob here in twenty minutes. I don't care how, just do it."

There was a pause from the next room and then a confused but strong voice, "Sir!"

"Now for you," Dominatus whispered, one hand shifting into Teddy's hair as the other unzipped his own trousers. "You've got twenty minutes."

Ten minutes later Dominatus was coming down Teddy's mouth, making him smile, making him feel proud of himself to serve such a smart men so well.

-.-

"You…you quit your job?" James asked, one eyebrow up.

Teddy shrugged from where he was cutting up pieces fir their dinner, "I wasn't enjoying it, that's all."

James sat at the kitchen table, wand in hand while he used charms to cut out the coupons he wanted from that week's grocery flyer. He spoke hesitantly, "It's not that I don't want you to be happy Teddy, because I do, definitely. But I'm not sure if… I mean, I hate my job all the time, but that's life, y'know-"

"It's not a big deal." He snapped. "I'm working with a friend of Benny's now anyways, in a bar on Knockturn. Leave it."

James is stunned for a second into silence. He's not exactly sure how to deal with an angry Teddy, as years have proven his boyfriend to be quiet, conflict-avoiding and calm in the worst of times. Teddy is a Ravenclaw through and through so James does the only thing he can think of. Be understanding.

"Well," James started, looking for any sort of hint regarding the moody brow of his lover, "I'm glad you're happy. And who knows, we might see more of each other now."

He watched Teddy shrug again, still facing the kitchen counter. James furrowed his brow. There was no way Teddy could still be cutting chicken.

He stood, walking quickly to where his boyfriend was. James slipped his long, pale, freckled arms around Teddy's warm body, breathing in the scent of him, "Are you okay?" He whispered in Teddy's ear, keeping still as he awaited the answer.

Teddy sighed then put a hand over the one James had on his stomach, squeezing it lightly. He brought their intertwined hands to his mouth and kissed them, "I'm fine. Just a little tired is all."

He turned around in James's arms and leaned into him, kissing him gently on the lips. James felt the slight smile and delved in deeper, his tongue prodding Teddy's. Teddy tasted different, like a cross between a spoonful of sugar and pure heaven. Some kind of wonderful taste that put images into his head, scenes that were bold and vivid, but not altogether understandable.

"Mmm…" James moaned, pulling away. "You taste amazing."

Teddy grinned, slipping out of his arms with another quick kiss and heading to the refrigerator to finish up dinner.

James smiled at his back, sinking back into his seat. He returned back to his coupons, grin still prominent on his face.

When everything was going wrong in the world, there was still Teddy.

-.-

It was his night off. For the first time in three months Dominatus had given Teddy a night off. Teddy knew that it was probably in regard to the fact that he had nearly fallen asleep while being fucked by the man the night before, but it was still a big deal.

He sat in his and James's apartment, looking around at the paperbacks James had lying around everywhere, the old quilt Andromeda had knit for him years before, their old television blinking out the Muggle news.

He couldn't seem to sit still; jumping up for coffee, grabbing a danish from the pantry, putting the danish back, reading Transfiguration Today, throwing the magazine across the kitchen, kicking a chair, pounding his fist into the wall, _goddamn it why couldn't he think?_

Teddy started shaking, violently, deep trembles coming from inside his body. He felt like he was dying, like there would never be anything to live for ever again because he couldn't move, couldn't think, could only keep shaking.

He grasped out to catch hold of something, maybe the table, maybe the fallen chair, but only grabbed air. He fell to his knees, hitting the floor with a crack.

Teddy Appartated out of his apartment.

The next thing he knew he was in Knockturn, in the very same alleyway that he would have been in if he hadn't gotten the night off. Orslo, another dealer who typically worked Cambridge, was on the other side of it, counting the money in his pockets.

"Ted!" he shouted, smiling a bit. "Merlin, you look like fucking hell you know that?"

Teddy lunged at him, grabbing the front of his robes, "Do you have any? You have to have some. Where is it, where are you hiding it?" he started tearing away the man's robes, desperate for the pretty little vials that would make everything better.

"Jesus Christ!" Orslo jumped away from the wild Teddy, with wide eyes. "The fuck's gotten into you?"

"Give it to me!" Teddy roared, not caring what he looked like in the slightest. "I know you have some, now give it to me!"

Orslo, now angry, threw a vial at Teddy, "Here you go you fucking druggie! Now leave me the fuck alone, or I'll kill you I swear."

Teddy doesn't hear that though. His thoughts were solely on the vial in his hands. He held it up to the streetlight, watching the golden liquid wink at him, tease him. He uncapped it, threw back his head and swallowed, sinking to his knees in satisfaction.

All was fine.

-.-

The Auror offices were dimly lit. After the 6 o'clock rush came back from duties the whole place seemed to fall apart, all the 9-6 workers heading home while the 12-9s took control of the office. There was an unspoken rule in the office: if there were less than 5 people in it, it was quiet.

James Potter, having been given the night shift, was used to a silent office. There was only two other Aurors there at the same time: Dave, a 40-something homophobic man, never talked to him and Ryan, a young guy who loved cooking, was on the opposite patrol as his.

But he had never really minded. It was easier to work when there was no one else in the office, regardless of the silent rule. And the faster he finished up the faster he could get home to Teddy.

James had only been at the office for an hour when his head dropped on his desk and he began to rub his temples. He was fried. He worked all night on paperwork for the case and the days were dedicated to either sleep or discussing things with Scorpius.

There was just too much to sift through and not enough people to help. He didn't have a team, or even a partner, and although Scorpius was great he couldn't exactly help on the technical side of things.

He sighed, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, and flicked the switch on the machine to his right. It was a beast of a speaker, with all sorts of knobs and knabs, buttons and turns to change the volume with. It was the home of more than a hundred tapes James had recorded over the span of three months.

Aurors, back in his father's day, used to collect memories, thousands from every suspect, and then cross reference them using many pensieves. This resulted in a lot of tampered memories and a high budget for the buying of said pensieves. Since that point Aurors relied on recordings of people's accounts, magically done so that the person who taped the record was the only one who could operate it directly.

James thought they were a pain to use.

He'd been listening to them every night since his first trip down, visiting the inmates of Knockturn Alley and other, sometimes Muggle, spots that dealers and users hung about. There was countless hours where he just listened, rewound, listened again, turned the strange green knob so it would slow down.

James, always one for mind maps, had thirteen different pieces of parchment covered in arrows and names, bubbles with descriptions, how this person connected to him and how he was dealing with her. They were all street names sure, and he only had the word of a bunch of drug addicts, but it was a huge lead if he could trace back the exact source.

From what he could see, stirring his tea in the late hours of the days while simultaneously rubbing his eyes, it all traced down to one thing: the iEye of Newt/i bar and the man with the blue hair.

James coughed down some more Earl Grey (he was an English breakfast kind of bloke but Dave insisted on it) as he turned the purple knob, rewinding the machine back to Ellen's interview.

-_so he says to me, he says, Ellen, sweetheart I need to borrow some money. And I says, I says, Arty don't give me that you never gave me back for that last pound of stuff. For fuck's sake the man was hoped up on Mag- fucking Mag for a week_-

James stopped the recording. That was another thing. Mag. Dreams. What did that all mean? He'd asked around of course, and had the basic understandings of the drug – half something fantasy like and half cut with something else, like Pepper-Up Potion. Whenever he asked any street people about Mag though they all got the same look in their eye and immediately began talking about past trips.

James shook his head and played the tape again, pausing to underline the already bolded **MAG** he had written in the centre of his mind map.

-_I didn't give it to him, won't. Besides, he can't even buy anymore, cause the guy won't sell to him. Who? Yeh, blue hair. He's a fucking… ah, what's that word? Like when you have control? Yeah, he's like the dictator of Knockturn. He'll say no to yah, for no reason, he just doesn't want to sell to you today. So you just go back the next… what's that? Oh yeh, his face – always fucking different. But the same, you know? Something in his eyes. Like… like fucking dogs. Animal. He's an animal_-

James forwarded it a bit, reaching the section where Ellen mentioned the man who had been found dead shortly before the interview was taken. He sighed again and started it up.

-_Arty was always a weird guy, you know? You could say it's the drug, and hell that wouldn't be a stupid guess – but I got this feeling when I went around him. Like he could, you know, like kill me or some shit. It was scary. And he left some good things when we found him in the dumpster. I'm not saying it was a good thing he died or anything like that, but it helped out the alley, right? Some warm clothes for the new kids, fuck they're just teenagers_-

James breathed out his nose. He was getting nowhere fast. He needed to get down in Knockturn again. Not in daylight, to question the addicts – no, he needed to try the _Newt_ one more time. He needed to smuggle himself into that bar and kill the man that had ruined these people's lives.

He needed to end this.

-.-

"You know, you should take me to that pub sometime," said James one night after dinner while they both sat on the couch watching 11th Doctor reruns, "I'd love to go."

Teddy glanced out of the corner of his eye. James was drinking some kind of strawberry chocolate smootie thing that Albus introduced him to and he had these drawstring pajamas on and he was chuckling at something Amy Pond had said and he was so _average_.

Teddy swallowed, "It's really not that great. Just Knockturn. You know how that is."

"I bet it's lovely," James said matter-of-factly, then laughed, "Though seriously, Knocky needs a bit of a cleanup. Been there the past couple of days with Scorp, I swear it's like-"

"Wait." Teddy didn't just hear what he thought he heard. "Scorp? Scorpius Malfoy?"

James looked at him, his hazel eyes confused. "How many other Scorps do we know?"

"I don't hardly know him anyways." Teddy glanced down, then up, then back at James. He was pissed. Scorpius Malfoy was someone who reminded him of the family he never had and it made him scream to think about it. It didn't matter what Teddy did or thought, James was still _his_.

"Why're you seeing him now anyways? You know how much I hate the little bugger. You know I do." Teddy stood, knocking over James's copy of _Dune_ on his way. "That little asshole, you know how much I- Merlin, why the fuck would you-"

"Teddy!" James stood up as well, grabbing his boyfriend by the arm. Teddy shrugged it off, "What the hell's gotten into you-"

"Into me?" he yelled in James's face as he walked past him, headed for the kitchen and a glass of Firewhiskey. "You're the one who's messing around with other guys."

He unscrewed the top of the bottle and was mad to find it almost empty. Teddy threw it across the room where it smashed the Appleby Arrows calendar they had up.

"Teddy." James was at the kitchen door, his face disbelieving. "Did you honestly just say that I'm cheating on you? Are you insane?"

"Fucking Malfoy. Fucking prick."

"What is your problem with Scorpius? And why are you breaking things?" James yelled, running over to the broken glass and waving his wand, making the pieces magically melt back into the bottle. "Merlin Teddy, what's gotten into you?"

James was at Teddy's elbow then, close to his face, too close, the anger was out of his voice and the only thing left was concern.

"Leave me alone." Teddy said coldly, passing by him swiftly.

"Teddy you can't just walk away from everything!" James followed him. There was cold determination in his eyes, but Teddy kept going, reaching the coat rack next to the door and swinging his cloak towards him. He fastened the silver clasp and glared at James.

"Why don't you understand me? I said," Teddy stepped menacingly forward. "Leave." He stepped again. "Me." Pushed James's shoulder with one hand, making him stumble. "Alone!"

Teddy turned round, hand on the door when he felt a hand on his elbow,

"Ted- what the fuck's your prob-"

Teddy swung back his arm, anger in his eyes, and slapped James clear across the face.

There was silence in the flat. Only the sound of James's breath and Teddy's pants could be heard.

Slowly, unsurely, James raised a hand up to touch the red skin of his cheek, gently holding it while his eyes remained shut. He seemed to freeze in that position for a long time; fingers over face, eyes screwed shut, taking deep breaths through his nose.

Teddy couldn't feel a thing, not a single bone in his body. He stared at James unnaturally, hardly blinking as his mind tried to piece together exactly what he had done. He hadn't just hit James, no, there was no way he could do that, he swore to never hurt him, never treat him like Harry had that night-

"I-" he choked out, his hand reaching out on its' own accord towards James. "I- I don't know-"

"Teddy." James's voice rang clear, not broken or strangled or mussed the way Teddy's was.

"But I-"

"Go get some sleep."

"James I-"

"Teddy." He said forcefully, his head turning to the side so he was looking at his boyfriend straight on, his hazel eyes full of hurt. "Lay down in bed, get some rest. We'll talk in the morning."

Teddy's eyes dropped to the carpet. He didn't know what he was thinking. A part of him, a small part that used to dominate his brain, wanted to hug James for the rest of eternity, showering him with kisses and tokens and happiness beyond his wildest dreams.

But the other part of him, huge and controlling after it had corrupted his mind, wanted to kick James in the dirt, make him pay for being so perfect and clean and straightforward. It wanted him on his knees while Teddy fucked him, wanted his head held under water for minutes at a time, wanted him to be bruised and beaten and hungry.

Teddy's mind battled it out while he walked past James, heading for their bedroom. He paused briefly at his lover's side, a hand ghosting over James's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered before continuing on his way.

He didn't know if he meant it or not.

-.-

Scorpius came out of James's flu coughing.

"Merlin, when's the last time you cleaned that thing?" he coughed again, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. "The ash is literally piled up to my knees, I swear."

James gave him a look and continued putting on his dark robes. He placed his wand in the inner most pocket, and turned to his friend.

"Ready?"

"Yeah, yeah," Scorpius said, smiling widely. "We're going to get in tonight – I promise you that."

"We'd better." James replied, tossing on his cloak and grabbing Scorpius's arm. They Apparated.

Same alley. Same dreary weather. The light seemed to get sucked out of the day whenever you were in Knockturn Alley.

They didn't stop to look around.

Scorpius moved quickly with James right at his heels, both of them impersonating no one but themselves. James had a false ID of course, in case anyone happened to recognize him, but it was unlikely as he had stopped being in the Potter family family photo shoots for years and, just in general, he kept to himself.

They turned round the corner, flattening themselves on the wall to the alley where the _Newt_ stood. James breathed heavily next to Scorpius and gave him a grin, "Fancy being an Auror Scorp? You're not half bad at this stuff."

"Shut it Potter." Was the only reply he got before Scorpius grabbed his wrist and dragged him farther down the passage, their feet splashing into puddles down the cobblestone. They could see the light up ahead, but only barely, so James quickened his pace, urging Scorpius to do the same.

They stood in the shadows just before the shining orb and observed for a second

The blue haired man stood under the light, flicking ash from his glowing cigarette. His face was smaller than before, tinier nose, thinner lips, with bright, brilliant eyes. He seemed to be murmuring to himself as Scorpius stepped out of the light, and towards him.

He looked up abruptly, his eyes narrowed "You again? Hope you're actually buying this-" he stopped short as James followed Scorpius into the light, shaking a hand through his auburn hair.

The man's eyes darkened immediately. The mood in the alley changed, while the rain water dripped down a rickety storm drain to the left of them. The man took two steps towards them, flicking the cigarette stub onto the ground. He peered at James menacingly, as if his freckled skin would peel away if he stopped. James looked right on back.

Scorpius stepped in between the pair, putting his hands up to the man's chest, "Yeah, this is my friend. Anyways – we were wondering about getting into the bar. I know you said it was closed last time but-"

"What the hell are you two doing here?" the man asked darkly, eyes still on James. "This place isn't exactly meant for people like you."

"I can assure you;" Scorpius smirked, "that we are perfectly comfortable here. Isn't that right Jam- uh," he lost his footing for only a moment, and then the smug look was back, "Alex! Isn't that right?"

He reached a hand back, patting James on the shoulder and bringing him forward so they stood side by side. The man seemed to take a minute pondering them.

Neither James nor Scorpius could decipher the looks, but before they could even try the man had grabbed Scorpius by his cloak and tossed him aside like dirty laundry. He then pushed James back until he was pressing him against the wall.

"Get out of here" he hissed in his ear, hands clutched in James's robes. "You don't know what you're in for boy."

James was about to respond when Scorpius came from behind the man with his wand, pointing at his back, "Leave him alone."

The man's face turned eerily calm. He turned round slowly, brushing against James's front slightly before he faced the blond boy. Then, quite suddenly, there was a wild, unpredictable grin on his face.

"You his boyfriend or something?" the man spit out, eyes lashing Scorpius.

Scorpius, never one to back down from a challenge, raised an eyebrow, "Jealous?" he asked, tilting his head to the side with a smirk.

James breathed out heavily, fingering his wand in his robes. He knew not too be too hasty, that anything and everything could go wrong if he didn't time it perfectly. The man didn't look like too big a threat but if he-

With lightning speed the blue haired stranger had disarmed Scorpius, stunning the blond before he could move a muscle. He turned around towards James and found himself staring down the end of a wand, his own identically aimed at his opponent.

They stared at each other from behind the threat of the wands, trying to read each other's next move. A noise came from behind the door of the bar and the stranger's eyes flicked towards it before going back to James's.

"Drop your wand."

The man's eyes narrowed further, "Right."

"Do it."

"Why should I?"

James sighed, trying to gain the upper hand but becoming entirely too frustrated. "At the same time. Okay?"

The man stepped back, his wand still raised. He kept walked backwards until he was two meters away from James, right back to the light post. He shook his head and smiled a gruesome smile.

"You must have wanted to be an Auror when you were a kid."

"Didn't stop after puberty."

"Of course. A fucking Auror. Should have known you'd be knocking on my door soon enough."

"I'm here to save lives."

"You're here for a medal of honour, _James_."

The man in question froze, dropping his arm slightly, "How do you know who I am?"

The stranger laughed loudly, filling the alleyway with his deep chuckles, "I know everything, honey. Although… I have to say: a Malfoy helping a Potter," he walked up to Scorpius's stunned form, giving him a little kick. "Didn't know that was becoming a thing."

"He's a friend."

"I'm sure he is. Nice friend?"

"What's it to you?"

"Treat you nice? Give you roses?"

"I hate roses."

"I know."

James narrowed his eyes, stepping towards the man, "Who are you?"

He smirked, "And now there's the age old question."

"How do you know all these things about me?"

"Does it bother you?"

James was beginning to see red, "Answer me."

"You answer me instead. Does it bother you? Frustrate you?"

The man was taunting now, trying to take a swing at the old ego that James had buried away years before, "Yes!" he screamed.

And then, like the flash of a whip, he was disarmed and numb; not on the ground, but unable to move all the same.

The man laughed as his wand rolled down the cobblestone path, stopping in an unknown place. "You're all the same, fucking Aurors," he sighed and then looked down at the frozen blond, "Looks like I can wake this one up again."

Scorpius woke up, spluttering like a fish out of water. He choked once, twice and then the stranger was above him, looking down at him with pity in his eyes.

"Scorpius Malfoy," the man hummed, pointing his wand directly at the boy's head. "You're father would be proud of you. Helping out a Potter."

Scorpius scowled, "He'd be proud to know that I'm trying to help people instead of wasting my life dealing drugs in some alley. You're worse than scum."

The man's eyes, already impossible dark, turned even blacker. His grin did not wash away however; it turned even more malicious, more patronizing and cruel. He smiled down at Scorpius, wand never wavering.

"But honey," he said, his lips curling. "They just taste _so_ good."

There was a flash of green and then silence.

-.-

Why didn't they understand?

Why didn't they see how beautiful, how perfect and wonderful the road to destruction was? It was gorgeous, like wasted youth, like the root of hatred in a mother's heart. They didn't look through to the truth, go past the scrim and see the light from the other side.

And there was light. When another dead, soulless woman would come wandering in, desperate and hungry, with nothing in her eyes, no warmth, no softness. She only wanted, wanted so badly she'd beg and plead and grasp with every fiber in her being.

Why didn't those stupid, prying eyes with their fancy ideas on how the world _should_ be understand how phenomenal it was to waste away?

To float on the clouds of your mind while your body sank into the concrete?

-.-

"What the hell are you doing here?" a cloudy voice above him asks.

James wakes up on the floor, head pounding. He opens his hazel eyes, scanning the room around him. It is cold, small and entirely made of stone – like the perfect cell. There is only one exit, a single door on the other side of the room.

He can't remember anything

And then he finds a familiar face.

"Teddy? Oh Teddy thank Merlin you're here!" James is immediately reassured, looking around himself for some kind of bearings. The thought that Teddy should not have been there does not cross his mind, "I was in the alleyway and then there was this man and then Scorpius-" he falters for a second. He breathes out.

"Scorpius." He whispers. "Teddy, what- what happened to Scorpius?"

Teddy's face shows no emotion. He speaks in a clear, cold voice, "Scorpius is dead."

James is silent. He can't quite believe, doesn't want to believe that his friend was killed. Scorpius had nothing to do with it, he only wanted to do the right thing, put an end to this plague and then he died just like Tony – because of some stupid drug.

"How can you… are you sure?" James asks; but he's knows Teddy's telling the truth. After all, he saw the green flash with his own eyes.

"Yes." Teddy suddenly grins. "I'm pretty sure."

There's something more in his voice, something that alerts James right away. James turns his head slowly, looking straight up at Teddy, at his almost black eyes.

"…Teddy?" he asks in a small voice.

There is a beat of silence and then-

"I killed him."

James is numb. Surely his body has disintegrated into the floor; has become dust or water or just a mass of atoms lying around because he can't feel a thing.

And then suddenly, like a bullet piercing through his body, James gets it.

"Blue hair." He says, mind wheeling like a corkscrew but his voice calm, collected. "The different faces."

Teddy steps closer to him, the grin still on his face. He reaches out, strokes James's chin with a gentle caress, "Who else would it be?" he asks in a soft voice.

The storm outside begins to pick up, rain shattering on the window.

"You killed Scorpius." James says, trying to put all the pieces together in his mind. He gets it, he does, but he needs to say it out loud, needs to get through this little by little until he could consider it as a whole.

"You killed him, and you've been dealing to people on the streets, the dreams – Dreams? Of course! Why didn't I see it? And you've… you did it all behind my back," Teddy nods, a self-satisfied smirk on his face, but James plagues on, "and now… hundreds of people depend on this every day-"

Teddy snorts, cupping James's cheek patronizingly, "Try millions sweetheart."

It takes a second and then-

"Millions?" James chokes out; his face, he knows, is going wide with shock.

Teddy's smirk gets bigger, almost too much for his face, "We just took over Bangkok this morning actually. Quite the celebration."

He can't process this. Millions? Bangkok? The Ministry's been worried about some bloke in Scotland who killed 6 people but they won't send one team on to figure out this mess, to sort through the stacks of problems that this business has caused people-

James shakes his head, "You were acting so weird before. I thought.. maybe you'd-"

"What?" Teddy leans in, mocking him, terrorizing him, wanting to get him to rise and punch and whimper and beg and plead his way out. "What did you think? I had trouble at work?" he laughs, hugely, maliciously, gone is warm, studious Ravenclaw Teddy.

James only has one question left to ask. He shifts on the cold, stone floor, trying to get away from Teddy's soft hands, so different from his vicious voice.

"How?" he asks, quiet as a whimper. "How did you do it?"

Teddy's face suddenly goes a little darker, a little less smug and a lot more careful, "I had help."

James stares on blankly. Help? The puzzle wasn't finished yet?

And as he asks himself that question he sees it, the missing corner, the unfinished cloud or cow or panda that he needs to finish it, and god he just wants this to be over- no, he wants it to be six months ago, six glorious months before so he could grab Teddy and go somewhere else, somewhere where it wouldn't get him, wouldn't tear them away from each other-

"For an Auror you're pretty bad at this research thing." The smug look is back.

"What do you mean?"

"You have no idea who runs the whole thing, do you?"

James thinks for a second. "You do. Or you should. I'm guessing the whole thing was your idea in the first place. You're the dream manipulator."

The smug look fades. Something hard comes in its place. "I couldn't do anything without Dominatus."

"Domi-what?" James asks, brow furrowed.

"How the hell," Teddy asks, leaning forward and clutching James's cheek with his nails, "can you call yourself an investigator when you don't even know who the King of the Mob is?"

James looks away, trying to get out of Teddy's steel grip. He holds on.

"You really have no idea? Pathetic. That's what you are James Potter." He whispers hotly in James's ear as the younger man wiggles uncomfortably. "Pathetic."

James is desperate, "Teddy this isn't you, someone's poisoned you, or drugged you, or-"

Teddy laughs, "Oh, they definitely give me drugs. Not often enough though." He stays leaned into James on the floor but removes a hand to reach into his robe. James glances down quickly to see him pull a glass vial full of golden liquid. Teddy raises it up to his mouth and uncaps it, swallowing.

James watches as his face melts, his hair shifts through colours and his eyes open, the pupils dilated, the irises almost black. He seems to forget where he is for a minute, staring off into space as he looks at James's freckled chin. Then, as sudden as can be, he lashes out, grabbing James's roughly by the hair as he presses their mouths together.

Teddy moans, "Don't I taste good Jamie? Don't I make you want more?" His nails pierce into James's skin.

James is breathing heavily as he pulls away, "You aren't Teddy. You can't be."

Teddy laughs, then laughs again, then laughs one more time, each one getting more violent, louder. He flicks away the vial in his hand and uses it to grip James's neck, leaving little marks.

"I am. I am. And you James Potter," his eyes glint up, remembering. "Are a disappointment."

James's breathing stops. He didn't- James can't believe it, he thought he'd never, ever have to hear those words thrown at him again. He never imagined that the person he had lost most of his life to be with would say such a thing to him.

He couldn't believe that Teddy would say the same thing his father had told him the day he kicked him out.

James is like fire, burning, hot to touch and scary as hell as he flips Teddy and him over, latching onto Teddy's wrist that connects to the hand that is currently on his neck.

"You asshole." He whispers, eyes blazing into Teddy's. "You _asshole_."

"Oh c'mon, Jamie." Teddy wiggles his head up so their noses are touching. He places a hand over James's heart, "you know it's true." He smiles wickedly, knowing James perfectly, knowing how to make him clench with pain,

"No one cares about you." He whispers in James's ear, taunting. "And no one ever will."

James doesn't register anything until his fist is in the air and then suddenly he's punching Teddy, hitting his lover like nothing else, making him laugh and flip them over, and then Teddy starts fighting back, the glint in his eye mocking him, making him feel like he's two feet tall, just like Harry's eyes were that day.

Punch, slap, James's lip breaks, Teddy manages to kick him in the groin, punch, fist, kick, slap, smack, James returns the favour, break, hurt, hurt, hurt.

And then-

A noise. The door opens. And a man in a grey suit walks in.

Dominatus surveys the scene before him with a smirk on his regal face.

"Well isn't this cute?" He approaches Teddy, who is frozen in his struggle with James. Teddy shifts back, immediately letting go, getting on his knees before Dominatus. James is frozen by a wandless spell, still sprawled on the ground. Then Dominatus waves his hand and James is standing in front of him, shoulder back and eyes forward.

He looks like a soldier about to die in battle.

"This your boyfriend, Ted?" the man asks, grabbing James's petrified face, leaning in close. Teddy watches in his peripheral as Dominatus runs a hand through James's auburn hair, pinching his cheek. Teddy nods.

"Going to introduce us properly?" He rests one of his hands on Teddy's bowed hand, lifting it up so amber eyes meet steely grey.

Teddy closes his eyes and swallows, "James Potter. This is James Potter." Teddy sighs, giving away the last piece of the puzzle, watching the older man's eyes as they open wide with excitement, with anticipation.

"Potter, eh?" he drops Teddy's head, stepping forward into James's personal space. "James fucking Potter - is that right?" his face leans close into James's ear, not changing the tone of his voice, just the proximity. Teddy feels a swell of magic in the air and suddenly James can move his mouth.

"Fuck off."

"Hmm… Do you want to hear a story, Jamie?"

"That a family name," he growls.

"Is it now?" Dominatus puts a look of mock horror on his face, "And we're not family?" he rubs one hand down James's shoulder while the other shifts through Teddy's business-blue curls. "What a pity. Although, you should know…" he trails off with a smile. "We have enough in common to be something like family."

James snorts, "I doubt that."

"Really?" Dominatus sighs heavily, the glint in his eye the only telltale that he is, in fact, kidding. "I think you're wrong honey. When I was a kid, I wanted to be an Auror, just like you."

He laughs, a hollow sort of noise, "Of course, it wasn't later until I realized that Burkes weren't allowed to stop criminals, they usually _were_ the ones committing the crimes. But really, I did want to."

James looks very poised, standing tall even if his frozen state.

"You doubt me, don't you?" Dominatus looks gleeful at the chance of this, his sharp teeth glowing in the dark room. "There are other things, you know. Similarities." He circles James now, dragging his hand across James's backside, the round of his arse, the curve of his shoulders. "We both wanted our fathers to love us a little more… we both got kicked out of our house for being who we are. Oh! And…" Dominatus rests his chin over James's shoulder, smiling up at him. "We've both been fucking Teddy Lupin for the past two months."

The man in question watches as James's eyes fill with something stronger than sadness, worse than betrayal, deeper than hurt. Teddy glances away from his once-upon-a-time lover, still stuck in his dreamlike state of mind, and glances up at his new master, his Dominatus.

"Don't tell me you didn't know!" Burke exclaims, laughing a little as he pats James's cloak. "You didn't realize that your own boyfriend was with another man? Call yourself an Auror?" he snorts, and suddenly the amusement gone, "Pathetic."

A tear runs down James's face as he fixes a glare to Dominatus, trying to stay strong like his father always told him. He says clearly, words full of hate, "You bastard."

Teddy isn't sure who he's talking to.

"Hmm" Dominatus grins his usual feral grin but Teddy can see the fire in his eyes, like icy flames, "I've heard that before. Said it before too, when I meant it. Only once though. It's a good story. I'd quite like you to hear it."

Dominatus waves a hand and two chairs appear. He pushes the still frozen James into one of them and sits down in the chair opposite him. He smiles.

Teddy scampers over to Dominatus, placing his head in his lap quickly, seeking the warm reassurance of a hand in his hair. It's returned back to brown, his usual colour. He's vicious in blue, the King of the Addicts. But when Dominatus is around he is brown; second-best, the side mistress of the whole ordeal.

For some reason Teddy doesn't mind.

James's hazel seeks Teddy's, plaguing him to open his eyes, to explain himself in a glance. If there was one thing James would always be it was a forgiving person. Teddy used to love him for that, used to cherish his kindness. He can't recall why.

"Now," Dominatus began, his voice quiet and childlike, but not yet patronizing. "Once upon a time there was a woman who had two children. A boy," he gestures to himself. "And a girl."

Teddy snuggles deeper into his lap as he continues. He can hear James breathing heavily, locating emergency exits, possible weapons to use against them. Teddy almost snorts. How silly this boy looked when compared to Dominatus. How silly he was to think that he had any hope of getting out of this place.

"The family lived in a nice little house near Liverpool. They were happy, the three of them. So happy, in fact, that they never, ever needed a father. Oh no. They were going to be great on their own."

Teddy strokes his leg, always eager to please. He looks over at James and sees the look in his eyes, something one didn't see in his eyes often: defeat.

"The boy went to school and had the time of his life, learning spells and rules and games. And then he went back one summer, ready for his sister to join him in the fall. And she did. She loved it. She felt the magic running through her veins, could spike an artery and a rabbit with top hat on would drip out before blood.

"But then, just before her third year, she started to hear the voices." Dominatus's eyes turned dark, looking at James as though everything was his fault, as though every single problem in history could be marked down to James fucking Potter. "They had her tested. The Muggles said she had some kind of brain virus, something that made you think differently. They called her a schizophrenic and gave her pills, jars and jars of pills that she had to keep track of and take twice a day."

Dominatus stands up, knocking Teddy out of the way as he tells James about his sister, about the madness inside her.

"They wanted to lock her up. Toss her in a cell and throw away the key. We refused. No, we said. Helena's a sweet girl. She'd never do anything to anyone. And it was true. She didn't touch a soul." His eyes seem to fade away, as if he is seeing the image before them now.

Teddy doesn't want to see Dominatus this way.

"Dom-"

"Shhhh Teddy," he hushs, putting a finger in front of his mouth. "We've got to finish the story, don't we?" he reaches forward, places a hand on James's ear and tugs, "Little Jamie will be wondering about the ending. And we can't keep him waiting, can we?"

A second of silence follows, as it seems he wants an answer. Teddy gives him one, "Yes sir."

"Good. Now, where was I? Ahh, of course. Helena. Sweet – like sugar on your tongue. She was good too, well respected. Everyone loved her. But, one day while…" he coughs, "we were in Diagon and lost control of her… she didn't mean to hurt those women. She didn't mean to make them scream and bleed. She didn't mean to kill them."

Teddy can't help but feel a little scared as Dominatus goes on, feeling his anger, his denial.

He swallows, "The Aurors didn't see it that way." Dominatus walks towards James, suddenly full of white hot anger. "Especially perfect Harry Potter. Oh no. He didn't give a damn that she was suffering. All he kept saying was how he would miss his first child's birth if he didn't leave before all the evidence could be gathered. He arrested her on the spot. Then threatened me when I called him a bastard."

Dominatus leans in, lips almost brush over James's as he finishes, and "So - that'd be you then, wouldn't it? Harry Potter's precious first born."

James's voice is hectic, "he doesn't give a damn about me -"

"You," Dominatus hisses, "Are the reason my little sister is in Azkaban. Why she's been there for twenty two years."

He stares at James, waiting for him to say something, to try and convince him that he's wrong, that it is not his fault. He waits for only a minute and then something inside him snaps,

"What? Nothing to say? Not a word?" he roars, face red with anger, perfectly brushed hair suddenly wild. Teddy watches as the man he respects more than anything turns animalistic.

All there is, is silence for a second and then-

James is on the floor, gasping at the initial contact of his body to the cold, hard floor. He has barely a second to recover before Dominatus is on him, clutching at his robes, tears them off his frozen body; he is hysterical in his movements, straddling James's waist. Teddy has never seen him lose control this badly and it is frightening for him, frightening in the way that he wants more, like pain that doesn't really hurt, just makes you want to press harder against it.

"Teddy!" he barks, shoving the robes off James's chest; his voice a calm commander as the rest of his body is crazed. "Get over here. Hold his arms."

Teddy scrambles over to do as he's told. He grabs James's delicate wrists and pushes down, pinning him to the floor completely. As soon as skin touches skin James's body comes alive, thawing entirely as he struggles against Teddy's hold and Dominatus's prying fingers.

"Please, please, please," James begs, not looking at either of his captives, eyes shut as he prays to someone, anyone. Maybe to the brother who ran away to America, maybe to the father that threw him away at his hardest time, or maybe to the old Teddy, the one person he could trust above everyone else.

Dominatus slaps him across the face, his head hitting the floor with a loud crack. He hisses in his ear, "Look at me."

Teddy presses down harder on the wrists, loving the sound of his master's voice. It is full of authority, control. He can't help it when he leans down to where Dominatus is, growling down at James. "You're brilliant sir," he says and then kisses him.

James can only watch as the two men above him embrace. He closes his eyes again and tries to imagine it all away.

It doesn't work.

James can feel the man's hands all over his body, scratching, biting, clawing at his skin. He has nowhere to look but up at eyes, Dominatus's cold grey ones or Teddy's hungry black. And every time he turns his head to the side, desperate to escape their leers, the man hits him again.

"Come on Jamie," he breathes in his ear, right hand unbuttons his trousers as the left draws its' nails down his chest. "Scream for me."

Dominatus must be a master of wandless magic because there isn't a wand in sight when James feels the skin of his cheek rip apart, and a huge noise shrieking comes from his vocal chords.

The man loves it, coming even closer to James, running his tongue down the gash. His hand cups James's head in place while he laps up the spilling blood, drinking it like he's possessed. His other hand has succeeded in pulling James's trousers down and suddenly there's a hand down his pants, searching and wandering.

Dominatus digs his nails into James's cock and James can't even scream it hurts so badly. He does it again and again, sucking the gash while the other attacks his most sensitive place. James arches off the hard floor, gasping and shaking and struggling against Teddy's monster hold.

Dominatus pulls off his wound and his other hand moves as well, convincing James for a moment that maybe it's over, maybe they'd just leave him be. But then he feels his pants being pushed down, and Dominatus has turned hard while pressing against his leg, and Teddy's eyes have gotten even hungrier as he waits for his master to fuck his lover.

James hears the spitting and starts thrashing, desperate, raging. Dominatus's hand comes up, holds his chin down while the other forces his legs apart, leaving deep crescents in the soft skin of his thigh. One of the fingers trailing down towards him is wet with saliva and he kicks out with his right leg.

Dominatus swears and then James hears some words and suddenly he's in the worst pain of his life. His muscles are on fire and every bone in his body feels like it's been cracked, his brain sears, his heart pumps furiously, Merlin he wants to die, just kill him already, nothing, not even death, could be as bad as the acid burning through his insides.

And then it is over and he breathes again. His ears come back into focus as he hears Dominatus laugh above him. "Did you like that precious? Do you want me to punish you again?"

James wants to be brave, to take the man just like his father would, but he can't help a whimper, can't help shaking his head.

Dominatus hums and then there is another kind of pain, but James is used to this one. The man has slide a finger into him, and then another, driving into his abused body. James tries to take deep breaths, knowing that what is going to happen will sting a lot less if he doesn't tense up. But then he looks up and sees Teddy and he's hurt and tired and heartbroken all over again.

He's tragic and very much alive.

It seems that Dominatus is sick of waiting because he only gives James one more slap, straight across the face, before shoving his spit-soaked cock into his unwilling body. James screeches but Dominatus barely pays attention, only feeling the warm tightness around his member.

"Merlin," he breathes, eyeing Teddy who has his eyes focused on the event. "You've got good taste in arses, I'll give you that."

"You too." He says back, adding a wink on the end, and then looking down at James who is sweating and breathing shallow.

Dominatus laughs and pulls out of James slowly; letting the friction burn his insides before thrusting back in. James feels the man's hand on his soft cock, rubbing it, trying to make him hard and embarrassed.

He can't help but spasm as Dominatus pushes into him again, harder than before so his head hits the floor. The sudden movement around the man's cock seems to stir something in him, and he looks down at James's with interest in his eyes.

"Hmm," he thrusts again, watching the boy squirm. "Let's try that again shall we?"

Dominatus fills James once more and then whispers the magic words, making the boy thrash around and scream as he's once more in the worst pain of his life. His muscles clench around Dominatus's cock, pure pain for him and straight pleasure for the man.

He throbs into James again and again as James struggles under the power of the Cruciatus curse. It seems like ages have gone by when Dominatus comes inside him, grabbing onto the boy's shaking shoulder and biting it.

James whimpers as the man goes slack against him. Every bone in his body feels like it's been shattered by a hammer. But he's alive. And it's over.

Merlin he hopes it's over.

"Tie him up," Dominatus whispers as he pulls out of James. He looks down at the boy, torn cheek, bruises forming, and grins. His fingers brush back the auburn hair sticking to James's sweaty forehead. "We haven't even started yet."

Dominatus stands, pulling up his trousers and zipping them. He watches as Teddy drops James's wrists and grabs his arm instead, heaving him roughly to his feet.

"Please Ted." James begs, eyes turned hollow. "Please don't do this."

Teddy shoves him into the chair pushing his shoulders into the hard wood. He grins like a maniac, removing one hand and reaching into his robes to grab his wand. He taps the side of James's chair twice and long, thick ropes spring on either side, securing him to the chair painfully.

In a matter of seconds James cannot move.

Dominatus turns, pinning James with a stare. He walks up to him slowly, carefully, a lioness stalking her prey, a black widow climbing up human flesh. He's ready to strike.

"What now?" James asks, the hero card programmed back into his mind as he realizes that talking is the only thing that could save him. "What could you possibly have left? You've already broken my heart, raped me, used an Unforgivable." He is breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling. He struggles against the bounds but falls back unsuccessful.

Dominatus frowns a little, looking for a moment, like he's unable to answer. Then he smiles widely.

"My dear, dear Jamie." He says, one hand fiddling with the inside pocket of his robes while the other reaches out to him. James turns his head away from it but Dominatus catches the side of his cheek and caresses it, thumb gliding over the wound.

"Honey, you are very lucky today." His hand comes out of his pocket with a glass vial, identical to the one that Teddy had drank an hour before, identical to the ones that millions of people would be taking, right that second.

"Today," Dominatus smiles, using his hand to tip James's head back, "you're going to try out a little thing for us. The New York Mob's been extremely successful, but you know what they say about mobs and telling the truth." He winked. "I wanted to try it out for myself."

Teddy's eyes go wide for a second before he understands and then grins, so amazed at the brilliance of his master. He watches keenly, while his own hand searches for a vial in his own robes. The buzz is starting to wear off.

He swallows the dream while Dominatus uncaps the other vial, standing over James. The boy yanks his head this way and that, making small needy noises. Dominatus grabs his chin, forcing him back. He squeezes his jaw, forcing him to open his mouth.

James has his eyes screwed up shut and keeps protesting, even while the liquid is draining down his throat, burning into his stomach and then straight into his blood stream, into his mind.

Dominatus holds the moment for a second, frozen, hardly breathing as Teddy does the same across the room; watching but also lost in bliss.

And then James screams.

It tears through the room, bouncing off the walls. His scream comes from a place of pure agony, from hurt and pain, worse than torture, worst than existence and death. He can't escape.

Teddy, eyes wide as he watches the boy thrash in his chair, hears Dominatus's laughter. He looks up surprised and sees the man. He's still holding James's jaw as he shrieks, feeling the boy's muscles tighten, getting pleasure out of the way James can't control his body, his mind, or how fast the pain is spreading.

"Dominatus?" Teddy asks in a small voice, only wanting to get away, to leave James in the room and continue on with their lives.

The man ignores him completely, eyes rapid on the tortured face.

"Dominatus!" he calls clearly, pleading, begging, move away from him, he's not important, come with me. Teddy's give a cough, a vulnerable, sweet, choking little cough and Dominatus finally turns.

He nods, "Okay. Let's go back to work."

Teddy smiles widely, running to his master's side and tucking his head into the man's neck, wrapping his long arms around him. He knows that Dominatus isn't a fan of cuddling, but Teddy figures it's a special occasion, with James's laboured, heaving breath in the background.

"C'mon," Teddy nudges, walking them to the door.

Dominatus opens it, giving one look back to James's. He smiles at him, and then down at Teddy, passing through the door.

"Back to business, eh Ted?" he asks with a wink.

Teddy closes the door.

-.-

James is standing in a ring of fire. His father's there with him, as is his mother, and Albus, and Lily, and Teddy. They're all standing around, smiling at him like never before, their white teeth flashing against the flicker of the flames.

And then the fire whips this way, whips that way, snagging Al and dragging him into the burning centre. James can only watch while his brother screams for a way out, burning in seconds. James can't move.

Then the fire takes Lily, surrounding her, engulfing her. Then his mother.

It's just James, his father and Teddy left in the circle. They're both still smiling at him, adoration in their eyes.

The fire strikes once more, creating bonds around Harry's wrists, forcing him to his knees. It licks him slowly with its flames, turning his pale skin black while James's is forced to watch. Teddy only stays by his side, grinning up at him, never faltering.

When Harry has melted away he waits for it to take Teddy too. But instead the fire dies down, leaving only a charred ground, to which Teddy pushes him down on. Suddenly Teddy is whipping him, the hard knots hitting his back painfully and he cries out again and again. He feels blood spotting through his clothes and struggles to stay on his hands, struggles not to fall into the dirt.

It feels like hours. Teddy eventually stops and James drops to the ground, breathing in the husky, campfire smell around him. His lover steps in front of him and squats, reaching for his face and touching it gently.

The flames start up again slowly, while Teddy smiles brightly at him, caressing him. James can't figure it out, can't even think when the man's movements stop being sweet and he is slapping his face instead, over and over, while the flames tickle his bare feet, enough to cause pain but not sear off entirely.

He's shouting out, he's crying, there are tears streaming down his face but it does not stop. The flames will go again and ice will be in their place, making his freeze, making him shiver while Teddy breaks his bones.

He's drowning in an ocean.

He's being slashed across the chest by Teddy's knife.

He's face down in quick sand while being castrated.

This nightmare would never, ever end.

**the end**


End file.
